My Graceless Heart
by rachhudson
Summary: All of those years at school and all of those late nights studying have finally paid off, and he's actually interning in an actual hospital. AU, loosely based on 'Scrubs'
1. part one

**this fic is loosely based on the television series 'scrubs,' specifically jd and elliot's romantic arc throughout all 8 seasons. i say loosely because it's not going to include everything that both of them went through and some things are going to be different, as well as the fact that finn and rachel are not the same characters as jd and elliot. i'm simply inserting these characters into a similar storyline so please keep that in mind!**

**this story will have five parts.**

**special thanks to robin, who came up with this idea for me to tackle :)**

**dedicated to mary gael, who assured me this wasn't as terrible as i thought it was, and amalia, who has a close connection to this plotline and said she didn't know if she wanted to punch me or hug me when she found out i was writing it.**

* * *

_my graceless heart, part one_**  
**

_i._

He's actually working in an _actual_ hospital. All of those years at school and all of those late nights studying have finally paid off, and he's actually interning in an actual _hospital_.

He almost has to pinch himself. It's all so surreal.

He feels a hand clap his shoulder. "Looks pretty good, don't it, Hud?"

He glances over at his best friend, Puck, then back up at the building. "Yeah," he says, "it does."

"Ready to be actual docs?" Puck asks, smirking as they head inside the building.

"I think so," Finn says. Hopes so, more like. "I mean, this is what we've been working toward for like, eight years, and now…" He takes in a deep breath. "We're actually _doctors_, dude."

"Astute observation, kiddo." The voice is sarcastic, and as the owner of the voice brushes past him, he notices it belongs to a tall woman with short, blonde hair and blue eyes that are in slits as she surveys the group of interns. "As Frankenstein pointed out," she says, addressing the group of seven or eight of them in front of her, "you are in fact doctors now. No more playing around, no more med school. This is the real deal. You will not be babied." She sends a glare in Finn's direction. He gulps, wondering what he could have _possibly_ done already. "You will not be coddled. You are professionals, and you will be treated as such. Is that understood?"

"Excuse me, Dr… Sylvester, is it?"

Everyone, Finn and Dr. Sylvester included, turn to look at the smallest intern in the group, a girl with long, dark hair and big, brown eyes.

"Aren't we supposed to be here to learn?"

"Well, Streisand—"

"It's Berry, actually, Rachel Berry."

Dr. Sylvester acts like she didn't hear her. "Streisand, you are here to learn, yes. But mostly, you're here to see if you're actually cut out for the profession you have oh so naively chosen. Not all of you will make it through your year as interns and go on to be residents. Those are just the facts. So, yes, you will be taught, and this will be a learning experience, but mostly, it'll be an _experience_. Does that make sense?"

Finn glances over at Puck, and he's glad to see he's just as confused as he is, because, quite frankly, that _doesn't_ make sense, but the dark haired girl – Rachel – is nodding fervently, so he doesn't say anything.

He really hopes he can handle this. He thinks he can handle this. He can handle this, right?

Puck punches him in the shoulder. "Bro, we _got_ this."

Finn nods. He _can_ handle this. He's a doctor now.

He's not going to let one crazy lady of a doctor intimidate him.

* * *

_ii._

He ends up working with Rachel more than he ends up working with Puck. Puck wants to be a surgeon, and Finn knows he definitely doesn't want to do _that_, although he isn't quite sure exactly _where_ he wants to focus in on.

"It's perfectly normal to not know exactly what you want to do," Rachel tells him knowingly as they do rounds for Dr. Sylvester. "I mean, for the first year of college, I was a musical theater major before I decided I actually wanted to be premed!"

"Really?" Finn asks, raising his eyebrows.

Rachel nods, smiling.

"What made you change your mind?"

"I just realized that the medical field might be a little easier to get into than the Broadway stratosphere." She shrugs. "Plus I always did love anatomy and physiology, and how the body works, so I figured it was a good fit." She turns to survey him after she finishes changing out Mrs. Robinson's IV. "What about you, Finn? What made you choose medicine?"

He swallows, licking his dry lips. Rachel's wide brown eyes are probing, and she's really pretty, he's noticing, even if her nose is a little big and she likes to talk a lot. It just adds to her appeal, he thinks.

"I wanted to do something that would've made my dad proud," he says finally.

"Oh," Rachel says quietly. "Was he a doctor?"

He shakes his head. "He was a soldier. Died in Desert Storm. I never really knew him, but he was – he was a great man. And I knew it would kill my mom if I went into the army, but I figured… you know, if I was helping people, like he was, maybe it would've made him proud, you know?" He shakes his head, letting out a breath. "It's stupid, I know."

"It's not stupid," she says gently, setting her hand on his arm. Her hand is splayed against the fabric of his medical coat, her fingers tiny and dainty. "I – I don't have a mom, so I kind of understand. I mean, I have two fathers instead, and I never _really_ felt like I was missing out, but – oh, this isn't really helping is it?"

"'S fine, Rach," he says easily, laughing a bit, because she's biting her lip, her expression worried, and she looks quite adorable, he has to admit.

"No one's ever called me that before," she admits quietly.

"What?" he asks.

"Rach."

"Oh, I can, like, not call you that if it bothers you—"

"No, no," she says decisively. "I think I like it."

He gives her a hesitant smile then, and she smiles back, smiles so wide he can see all of her pearly, white teeth, and right then and there, he knows Rachel Berry has the prettiest smile in the world.

* * *

_iii._

He thinks he really likes Rachel, like really, really _likes_ her, which Puck doesn't seem to understand.

"Like, bro, I agree she's hot and all, but you don't wanna get involved with that."

"Why not?" Finn asks, furrowing his brow.

"Dude," Puck says slowly. "She is _crazy_."

Finn rolls his eyes. "She is _not_. She's just, like enthusiastic about stuff, and yeah, she likes things to be neat and in order, but that doesn't mean she's _crazy_."

Puck looks at him in disbelief. "Yes, it does."

"Whatever," Finn says with a roll of his eyes. He flips through the chart he's supposed to be getting for Dr. Sylvester.

"Besides, I've got my sites on a _real _woman," Puck says, and Finn looks up just in time to see him waggle his eyebrows suggestively.

Finn scoffs. "Like who?"

Puck just grins, looking behind him.

Finn turns to see one of the nurses, Quinn, leaning over the counter, her blonde hair falling in her face as she scribbles something down.

He turns back to Puck in disbelief. "_Quinn Fabray_?" Puck nods, smirking. "Bro, you're _dreaming_. Quinn's _way _out of your league."

"Says who?" Puck says defiantly. "No one can resist the Puckzilla."

"And that's why," Finn deadpans, going back to his chart.

Puck ignores him. "Watch this," he says instead, maneuvering around Finn and heading to where Quinn's still bent over her paperwork.

Amused, Finn looks on as Puck taps Quinn on the shoulder. She already looks annoyed, one eyebrow raised, and her green eyes quickly narrow into slits. Puck says something else, and then she laughs, and Finn's pretty sure she's laughing _at_ him, not _with_ him.

Quinn turns to leave then with a roll of her eyes, picking up the chart she was scribbling on.

"I'll see you later!" Puck calls after her.

Finn can hear her laughter echoing down the hallway. Puck trudges back, a sour look on his face.

"So, how did it go?" Finn asks innocently.

"She'll give in soon enough," Puck says knowingly. "If there's one thing the Puckzilla knows how to do, it's how to wear down a woman."

Finn snorts. "Good luck with that."

"Yeah, well, at least I'm takin' _chances_, not whining about some girl I'm interested in but don't have the _balls_ to do anything about."

Finn frowns, but he doesn't answer.

Puck may have a point.

* * *

_iv._

He starts getting coffee with Rachel after shifts, just the two of them, from the Lima Bean just down the road. It's a friend thing (because they _are_ friends, even though Finn can't help but feel things deeper than friendship) and nothing more; it's purely innocent.

He finds it so incredibly _easy_ to talk to Rachel about anything and everything. He tells her about Puck's pursuit of Quinn, and how the other day, she'd actually _giggled_ at one of his pick-up attempts, in a way that suggested she was caving.

"He really _can_ wear a girl down," Rachel notes, her tone teasing.

"One of his many charming qualities," Finn says dryly.

Rachel giggles, taking another sip of coffee.

He just watches her for a moment, her dark hair framing her face, her brown eyes just visible over the rim of her coffee cup. She's _so_ beautiful, but in a subtle way. He doesn't think she realizes just how beautiful she is.

Rachel puts down her cup of coffee with a smack of her lips, checking the time on her phone. "Shoot," she mutters. "I have to go."

Finn furrows his brow, so she adds, "My dads are in town and I have to pick them up from the airport in half an hour, so I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"

"Oh, um, okay," Finn says quickly, getting up from the table when she does. "I – I had plans to hang out with Puck anyway, so…"

Rachel just gives him a small smile, says "Well then tell Noah I say hello," and then she leaves, the door clanging shut behind her.

He sighs, sitting back down. He pulls out his phone, figuring he might as well text Puck anyway to see if he wants to hang out. He rubs his face with one of his hands while he stares into his coffee cup. Rachel had ordered her coffee black, but he didn't want to admit that he wasn't exactly a fan of coffee, so he'd just ordered his with a _ton_ of cream.

She had still smirked at him, cocking an eyebrow. He can still see her face swimming before his eyes, her smile wide and full, and he knows he's already in too deep.

His phone buzzes, meaning Puck's decided to answer him. He clicks on the little message icon.

_Sorry bro, I'm taking Fabray on a date tonight. She finally gave in to the Puckerman charm._

Finn raises his eyebrows. He can't believe Quinn actually _caved_.

Then he realizes that this means he truly has nothing better to do than just go home and sit on his couch and watch old reruns of whatever he can find on television, and he sighs again. He discards his still-half-full coffee cup on his way out of the shop.

* * *

_v._

Puck starts hanging out with Quinn like a _lot_, which is fine and everything, although Finn does kind of miss seeing his best friend. He starts hanging out with Rachel more to compensate (and maybe because he really likes hanging out with her. What? She smells nice and her eyes are gorgeous and he loves just listening to her talk, okay?).

Their friendship has progressed to the point where they can go and hang out at each other's apartments, so he finds himself over at Rachel's surprisingly pink abode one Wednesday after a twelve hour shift. Gold stars seem to be the main décor, and she's quick to tell him that they're a metaphor for her being a star in every aspect of her life.

"My entire nursery was decorated in gold stars and it's been that way ever since!" she tells him cheerfully, sorting through her DVD cabinet. "Have you ever seen Funny Girl?" she asks him.

He shakes his head.

She gasps. "Oh, Finn, it's only one of the most monumental musicals of all time, and quite possibly Barbra Streisand's greatest work! We _have_ to watch it."

Before he can even open his mouth – whether to protest or to agree, he's not even sure – she's putting the DVD in the player, grabbing the remote, and sitting down next to him on the couch.

"Pay close attention," she tells him seriously, "because our friendship depends on your opinion of this film."

He thinks she's teasing, but she looks quite serious, so he can't be sure.

She sings all of the songs throughout the film, and he definitely knows why she originally wanted to go into musical theater: She probably has the most beautiful voice he's ever heard. He finds himself watching her more than he watches the film, because she's just so _involved_, hanging onto every line, even though she's probably seen the film hundreds of times.

When it ends, she turns to him expectantly. Her lips are pursed, her eyes bright. "Well?" she demands.

"I really liked it," he says quickly. "Like, really."

"Fantastic!" Rachel squeals, her tiny hands gripping his upper arm. "I knew you would, I _knew_ it, Finn! What was your favorite number?"

He wracks his brain for a song – any song – from the film. "I, uh, I liked the one at the end, when she was singing about how she'd love him no matter what? When she was in the black dress?"

"'My Man'!" she says excitedly. "It's one of my favorites, too!"

She continues to chatter on about the film, asking Finn about this part or that, but finally she takes a breath, looking at him with wide eyes, her demeanor almost completely different.

"What?" he asks, giving her a confused smile.

"There's something different about you, Finn Hudson," she says decisively.

"Is… that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A good thing," she says firmly, punctuating this with a nod. "Definitely a good thing."

He grins in relief. "Good."

"You know," she says a few minutes later as she's walking him to the door, "I think you might just be the best friend I've ever had."

He ignores the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as she says the word – _friend_ – and somehow he manages a smile.

"You're not too bad yourself, Rachel Berry."

She beams, blushing before she bids him goodnight, but his smile fades once she closes the door on him.

He's already managed to be friend-zoned, and he's barely known her for a month. He needs to figure a way out, and fast.

* * *

_vi._

They're back on her couch a week later, and Rachel's still insistent that he's the best friend she's ever had. When he told Puck about it, he practically fell on the floor, he was laughing so hard, and a few tears ran down his cheeks.

"You're stuck in the _friend zone_ with _Berry_!" he'd managed to gasp out, and Finn had just glared.

It doesn't help that Puck is actually in a relationship with Quinn now; it only seems to add insult to injury.

Rachel's curled into his side, her arm draped across him as they watch some lame horror movie. He wonders how she could _possibly_ think that they're in a platonic position right now – both mentally and physically – but he just sighs, wrapping his arm around her waist. He guesses he'll take what he can get.

She sighs, her chest rising and falling, and then she's peeking up at him from the spot where her head rests on his chest, looking up at him from underneath her long, long eyelashes.

He really wants to kiss her, but he doesn't get the chance, because she kisses him first, leaning up to press her lips against his. He's shocked at first, but it's not long before he's kissing her back, eagerly, his tongue easily sliding into her mouth. She lets out a little moan, her fingers curling around the base of his neck, drawing him closer to her.

He maneuvers them so that he's pressing her into the couch, hovering over her, and he moves his mouth to her neck, peppering kisses along her skin. He doesn't dare ask if they're actually doing this, because he's afraid that if he asks, she'll realize that _they're actually doing this_ and put a stop to the whole thing. He wants her too much to risk that.

Her fingers curl into his hair and she whimpers his name as his fingers slide underneath her shirt, pressing against the smooth skin of her stomach. She arches up as he slides the cotton over her head, peppering her skin with kisses. She tugs insistently on his shirt as well, and he pulls away briefly so she can pull it off completely. Once it's tossed across the room, he eagerly presses his lips back against hers, and feeling her move underneath him is already making him incredibly hard.

It's not too long before they've both stripped down completely, bare skin against bare skin as he slides on the condom, fumbling just a bit.

"Are you sure?" he finds himself asking before he enters her. He's ready, and God he _wants_ this, but he can't unless he knows she wants this, too.

She nods. "Yes," she whispers, "I'm sure."

And that's all the permission he needs. She's warm and wet and tight as he slides inside, and he waits before he begins to move, letting her adjust to the size of him.

"O – Okay," she whispers after a moment, her hands locking around his neck. "Go ahead, Finn."

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the apartment, and she feels _so_ good, her moans filling the apartment as he thrusts in and out of her. He grunts and he knows he's getting close, but he wants her to be close as well, so he lowers his hand between them, pressing against her most sensitive bundle of nerves.

She cries out, her breasts bouncing with every thrust, and then she's coming undone around him, and that's all he needs to come as well, spilling into the condom.

Their labored breathing is all that fills the room for a few moments until a shriek comes from the television, and they both jump. Clearly, they both forgot to pause the movie while they were otherwise engaged.

She laughs then, and he can't help but laugh along with her. She bites her lip, glancing back over at him, and he just raises his eyebrows.

"That was hot," he tells her candidly.

She blushes. "It _was_ rather nice." There's a pause, then she asks, "Wanna go again?"

He tackles her in response, pressing his lips firmly back against hers, swallowing the laugh that escapes from her throat.

* * *

_vii._

They're both doing rounds the next day for Dr. Sylvester and Rachel's pretty much acting like nothing happened between them, like they didn't share the hottest sex of Finn's life, and it's really, _really_ confusing him.

Right after lunch, he decides he has to confront her about it, because he _definitely_ wants to have sex with her again, and he doesn't think he'll be able to bear it if she doesn't feel the same pull, the same attraction, he did.

"So…" he begins, and she looks up at him over her clipboard, her brown eyes wide. "We had sex last night."

Rachel flushes. "And?"

That throws him for a loop; it's certainly not the response he was expecting. "I just… I mean…"

"Look, we're still _friends_, Finn," she says empathetically, and his stomach really churns at that word now. "Yes, we had sex, but we don't have to make things awkward! We can just move forward in our friendship!"

He swallows, and he tries not to feel so _hurt_, but he finds himself asking, "Was it not good for you, or…?"

"No, no, it was _great_," she says quickly, reaching over to touch his arm. "Really great, Finn. I just…" She sighs. "I'd rather not date anyone right now, you know? I mean, we lead busy lives – the lives of interns striving to be doctors! – and I really can't handle a relationship right now. So what we had was _lovely_, but it'll have to remain that."

His heart sinks all the way down to his knees, and he _can't _just let her get away so easily, so he finds himself blurting out, "It doesn't have to be a relationship!"

Rachel cocks a brow. "You mean… just sex?"

He nods, licking his lips nervously. He glances down at Mr. Kowolski, the patient they're attending to, and is momentarily glad the man is in a coma.

"I suppose I could be okay with that…" she allows, narrowing her eyes thoughtfully. "I mean, I could use a way to unwind after a particular trying day, and what better way than sex?"

Finn smiles in relief. "So we're doing this?"

"Yeah, okay," she says, and she gives him a small, almost shy smile.

"Cool," he says somewhat sheepishly. He pretends to check Mr. Kowolski's vitals then, but he's really watching Rachel out of the corner of his eye. She's glancing back at the chart, but he notices she's got a bit of a grin on her face.

He really hopes that this friends-who-have-sex-with-each-other thing could really be a doorway to bigger and better things concerning Rachel Berry.

* * *

_viii._

Sex with Rachel is incredibly _hot_. She's pretty much down to do it anytime, anyplace. They've done it at both of their apartments (when Puck wasn't home at his, of course) – on multiple surfaces, he might add – and even in the on call room on a couple of occasions.

They were nearly caught by Quinn, but he managed to zip his pants back up just in time, Rachel curling up on the bed and pretending to be asleep. Quinn had simply raised an eyebrow, looking first at Finn, then at Rachel, her smile knowing.

"I'm just taking a break," Finn had said somewhat unconvincingly, but she seemed to have bought it. At least he thinks she did.

Puck asks Finn about it over a beer that night. Quinn's out with some other nurses, so it's just him and Finn.

"Quinn said she caught you and Berry in the on call room this morning looking freshly sexed up, so you got some 'splainin' to do."

"What?" Finn says, trying his best to act completely shocked by such accusations. "We just happened to be in there at the same time – Rachel was sleeping!"

Puck just looks at him. "Hudson," he says finally, "you are such a shitty liar."

Finn sighs, taking a swig of beer.

"Well?" Puck demands. "Is she feisty in the sack? How long have you two been boning? I need some _details_, man!"

Finn glares at him. "Look, Rachel and I may not be dating, but that doesn't mean she wants me telling you all this stuff about how she is in bed—"

"Wait, you're not dating?"

Finn shakes his head morosely.

"It's a no strings attached kind of thing? Fuck buddies?"

"I guess," he says with another sigh.

"Bro, you are the _man_!" Puck cries out, slapping him on the back as half the bar turns to look at the pair of them.

Finn feels his cheeks redden, and he tries to distract himself by downing more of his beer, tilting his head back and feeling the liquid glide smoothly down his throat.

"So, what's it like, tasting the Berry?" Puck asks excitedly, and Finn chokes on his drink.

He coughs and sputters until finally, he can breathe enough to say, "Dude!"

"What?" Puck asks innocently. "I just asked you a perfectly good question!"

"Rachel's… awesome," he says decisively.

"And?"

"And that's all I'm gonna say, okay? I really don't want to like betray her trust or something."

Puck eyes him for a moment. "You have a thing for her," he says suspiciously.

"_No_—"

"You _do_! God, Hudson, a girl just wants meaningless sex and somehow you want _more_ out of that?" Puck shakes his head. "I thought I raised you better."

"We met freshman year of college," Finn says, momentarily confused.

"Look, whatever, the point is you've got a good thing going, Hud. Don't screw it up with all this emotional crap, okay?"

Finn nods.

"Good," Puck says. "I'm apparently the one who has to deal with the emotional shit right now unbelievably, since Quinn's apparently my _girlfriend_ now. And _yes_, we're exclusive."

Finn just laughs. Maybe he can be as nonchalant about this whole thing as Puck usually is. He can just fuck Rachel and not get attached. People do it all the time.

Puck's right: He does have a good thing going, and the last thing he wants is to ruin it.

* * *

_ix._

He's ruining it day by day. He's growing more and more attached to her.

Hell, he thinks he's falling in _love_ with her.

He knows this is a complete and total disaster, but he can't help the way he feels. He just loves every part of her: Her slightly too-big nose, her wide brown eyes, but most of all, her heart. She cares so much, in such a great capacity, and he's pretty sure she's his dream girl.

When he kisses her, he feels things he shouldn't be feeling: He feels lightheaded and dizzy, feels like he's falling. And he _is_ falling, he supposes, falling into something much deeper than either of them had anticipated.

The sex is still great, but it hurts to know that it probably means more to him than it does to her. And he _wants_ to be able to say it means nothing, but the point is, it _does_ mean something.

It could mean everything.

He's in love with Rachel Berry, and he doesn't know how he can possibly fall out of love with her.

* * *

_x._

"You're an idiot," Puck tells him knowingly, pausing their game of Halo.

Finn sighs, dropping his head back against the couch. "I know."

"No, like seriously an _idiot_."

"I know!" he snaps. He rubs his temple with two of his fingers.

"Look, you aren't supposed to fall in love with your fuck buddy," Puck says, his voice low since Quinn is sleeping in his room, just off of the living room where they are now. "It's like, rule number one in the fuck buddy manual."

Finn manages a dry chuckle. "What's rule number two?" he deadpans.

"If you do fall in love with your fuck buddy, don't fucking _tell her_, because otherwise, you won't have a fuck buddy from that point forward."

"But what if she feels the same way?" Finn finds himself asking, even though he knows it's ridiculous as soon as the words leave his lips.

"You don't risk it," Puck says. He stretches, his arms reaching back over the couch. "I mean, you'll just be right back in the friend zone if she doesn't feel the same way, this time without the sex, and is that really what you want?"

Finn sighs. "I mean… I guess not."

"It's not," Puck tells him. "Take it from Puckzilla here. The sex is good, right?"

Finn nods.

"Then just take it for what it is. You don't wanna blow a sweet deal like the one you have. So take my advice and just don't tell Rachel about these feelings. Actually, just cram those feelings way down deep. Don't even tell _yourself_ about them."

Finn just sighs again. He knows Puck's right; he _does_ have a good thing going with Rachel, and the last thing he wants is to screw that up by admitting his feelings for her.

Maybe he doesn't even really _have_ feelings for her. Maybe he was just caught up in the moment, caught up in her. And they _are_ friends first and foremost. He really doesn't want that to change.

So he'll take Puck's advice, and he'll keep any feelings he may or may not have to himself.

* * *

**tbc**


	2. part two

**thank you so much for any and all response so far! i really appreciate it!**_  
_

**a reminder that, while not all storylines concerning jd and elliot will be included (because that would be more like a forty part fic, not a five part one), i do already have the entire story mapped out and i know which ones i'm using and which ones i am not, and since i do know where i'm going with this story, i hope you can trust me with what might happen and where the story is going!**

**dedicated as always to the lovely miss mary gael, who didn't let me delete almost this entire thing and start over.**

* * *

_my graceless heart, part two_**  
**

_xi._

A high-pitched beeping fills the room, and Dr. Sylvester's screeching at him to _do something already_.

His heart rate quickens, and he knows he's trained for this, knows he can _do_ this, so he takes a deep breath. He takes the needle from the nurse next to him, catches Dr. Sylvester's eye, and then sticks the IV in the patient's arm. The beeping begins to slow until it's back to the regular rhythm, the chest of the man rising and falling.

Finn feels a sense of pride. He just potentially _saved_ someone's life. This is why he wanted to become a doctor in the first place: to help people; to make a difference. He finally feels like he's doing just that.

Dr. Sylvester gives him a small nod, one he takes to be one of approval, and he takes in another deep breath, backing away from the patient. He feels relieved. He actually _helped_.

"Good job, son."

He feels a hand on his shoulder and glances over to see the smiling face of Will Schuester, the chief of medicine. Finn's never actually spoken to him before – he is just an intern, after all – but he hesitantly smiles back.

"Thank you, sir."

Will claps him on the back as he leaves, moving on to talk to Dr. Sylvester, who looks absolutely murderous as she begins to converse with him.

Finn can't be bothered by any of that, though. He just helped save a _life_.

He catches Rachel's eye across the hall, and she grins at him, giving him a small thumbs up. His heart beats erratically in his chest, and he smiles back at her in return, probably a little too eagerly.

He thinks back to what Puck said. _Don't tell her you're in love with her. You have a good thing going, Hudson_.

But what if things could only get better?

* * *

_xii._

The words just slip out of his mouth.

Their legs are tangled in the sheets of her bed, and they're not really cuddling, but his arm is around her shoulders, playing with a few strands of her hair. She sighs, inching just a bit closer to him, and he glances down at her. She looks so peaceful, her eyes half-closed, her lips parted slightly, and he finds himself whispering, "I love you."

Her eyes snap open and she sits up abruptly, hugging the sheet to her chest. "Wh – what?"

He knows he should just say it was nothing – he can hear Puck's voice nagging him in the back of his head – but he just swallows and says, "Rachel, I know we agreed to keep this casual, but I – I lo—"

She covers his mouth with her hand. "Don't say it," she hisses.

"But, Rach," he tries to say, her hand muffling his words.

"This wasn't supposed to happen, Finn!" she says heatedly, getting up now, looking around for her clothes. "This was supposed to just be a – a no strings attached thing! And now you're telling me that you lo — have feelings for me, and I just…" She sighs, running a hand through her head. She whips back around to face him, holding her shirt in front of her chest. "I really can't handle that."

"Why would that be so bad, me being in love with you?" Finn asks, and he tries to keep the hurt out of his voice.

"You're my best friend, Finn," she says, her voice soft, and she looks truly sorry."I can't afford to lose you. I can't risk our friendship. So I'm sorry, but I'm afraid we'll have to stop this."

He feels a muscle pulsating in his jaw, and he's half mad at himself, for telling her his feelings, and half mad at her, for not wanting to take a chance on him. Doesn't he see how perfect they could be?

She leaves the room while he gets dressed, but she walks him out, her arms crossed over her middle, chewing on her bottom lip. "I'm really sorry, Finn," she whispers again, and he doesn't look at her. He _can't_. "We'll still be friends though, right?"

He swallows, sighs, stuffs his hands in his pockets. He looks up at the ceiling. "Yeah, Rach," he murmurs. "We'll still be friends."

He lets himself out then, and he just feels hollow, empty, because he risked it all by telling her how he felt, and now he can't have her in any capacity.

He really hates how he's going to have to tell Puck he was right.

* * *

_xiii._

Rachel tries to act like nothing happened between them, which actually makes things worse. She still sits with him, Puck, and Quinn at lunch, still chatters idly about whatever, and she doesn't seem to notice the somber looks Finn often sends her way.

She tries to make conversation with him, but he usually just gives her one word answers or doesn't bother returning her timid smiles.

"What's your deal, Finn Hudson?" Quinn hisses once Rachel gets up from the table on a Tuesday in December.

Finn shrugs. "Not in a good mood, I guess," he mumbles.

"Well, you've been in a terrible mood for _weeks_."

"Give him a break, Q, the girl broke his heart," Puck says, giving Quinn a nudge, and Finn shoots him a small, grateful smile.

Quinn doesn't really comment on it after that, and they go back to eating in silence.

* * *

_xiv._

It's not long before Rachel starts dating someone else (not that they were actually _dating_), and he'd be lying if he said it didn't hurt. The guy's a male nurse (which in itself makes him feel inadequate) named Jesse St. James, and it doesn't take long for Finn to figure out that he's a tool.

He thinks that he has seniority over interns, and even sometimes Quinn, who's the head of nursing, when in reality, he has basically no power. And since he's a doctor, he has to do what Finn tells him to do.

Jesse doesn't really like being instructed, so whenever Finn does have the misfortune of working with him, he likes to drop little things about Rachel. Finn tries not to get angry, to remind himself that he shouldn't _care_ about Rachel anyway, but it's no use. Jesse just knows how to get under his skin in the worst way.

One of the patients under both Jesse and Finn's care complains about his back one day, and Jesse says, "Ah, yes, my girlfriend, Dr. Berry, was complaining about back pain the other night due to some activities were partook in."

Finn just grits his teeth, not looking up from his chart to see the smirk he knows Jesse's sure to be wearing. He's sure the vein in his neck is standing out like it does when he gets angry.

"She's a little minx," Jesse adds, and Finn nearly snaps his pen in two.

He finally glares over at Jesse, who just winks before excusing himself from the room.

"I don't much like that one," the old man responds dryly from the bed.

Finn gives him a small smile. "I can't say that I do, either, Mr. Pewtersmit. I can't say that I do either."

* * *

_xv._

He's downing a pint at the bar down the street from the hospital when Puck and Quinn burst through the doors, Quinn beaming brightly. To his dismay, Rachel and Jesse are close behind them, hand in hand, Rachel giving him a small, almost apologetic smile.

He pretends not to see it.

Quinn's perkier than usual, and she practically races over to him, brandishing her hand in his face. A bright, gleaming diamond sits on her left ring finger.

"Puck proposed!"

Finn looks at Puck, who smiles and nods.

"Wow, that's – congrats guys!" he manages to get out. "That's awesome!" He knew Puck had a ring, but he didn't know when he would actually pop the question.

"You'll be the best man, right?" Puck asks.

Finn smiles. "Yeah, yeah, of course," he says.

"Oh, I think Sue is over there, I have to go show her," Quinn says excitedly, referring to Dr. Sylvester by her first name, which is a little unsettling, as Finn hadn't realized that she even _had_ a first name. She grabs Puck's hand and drags him across the bar, showing her ring to anyone who will stop to look.

He's thinking about leaving when Rachel sits down beside him, Jesse on the other side of her.

"It's exciting, isn't it?" she asks, giving him another smile.

"I guess," he allows, taking another swig of beer.

"You _guess_?" Jesse asks incredulously. "Two of your best friends are getting married and you _guess_ that's exciting?"

"Jesse," Rachel scolds lightly, but Finn just rolls his eyes. "They're perfect for each other," she sighs.

Finn puts a few bills down on the bar to cover his tab, standing up.

"Where are you going?" Rachel asks, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'm heading out," he says, pushing his hands into his pockets, "so I guess I'll see you guys around. Tell Puck and Quinn congrats from me again, alright?"

"Finn—"

"I can't do this, Rachel," he says bluntly. "It's too hard. So if we could just _not_ pretend like you didn't break my heart, that'd be great."

Hurt flashes across her face, but he tries not to dwell on it. He just leaves, pushing the door open and drawing his coat around him as the cool January air hits his face, making his teeth chatter.

He wishes he could just get over her, but it seems like he can't. He feels like she has part of him with her, like they're bound together by some invisible force.

But either she doesn't feel it or she's doing a good job of ignoring it, so he figures he should do his best to push the feeling away as well.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and he opens the message without seeing who it's from, assuming it's Puck, wondering where he went.

His heart drops when he sees it's from Rachel.

_This is what's best, Finn. I'm so sorry, but we're just not meant to be. _

She signs her text with a stupid star, and he wants to chuck his phone into the snow.

* * *

_xvi._

He doesn't talk to Rachel for months. Winter slowly turns into spring, the ground beginning to thaw and the air growing warmer. They see each other, of course, even work together sometimes and eat lunch together with Quinn and Puck almost daily, but he doesn't know what to say to her anymore. He feels like he's said all that can be said.

He's tried to make her see, but she's set in believing that they wouldn't work out, so he's started believing that as well. Maybe they would fight and maybe they would grow apart and maybe they would come to resent each other.

It makes it easier, surprisingly, to heal, when he lets himself think that wouldn't have survived being together.

He knows they're not really that much of friends anymore, but he still thinks that she may have been right to not risk their friendship. He doesn't want to end up hating her, because, despite what she might think, he _doesn't_ hate her.

Accepting this new philosophy, this idea that she may have been right after all, he starts talking to her again in April, just small conversations at first. She seems surprised when he first asks her how her day's going, but pleased, her cheeks flushing slightly. He starts acknowledging her at lunch, and he even makes her laugh a few times.

He really forgot how much he's missed being Rachel's friend. He was too caught up in not being her boyfriend that he potentially missed out on what could very well be his best friendship.

She laughs at something he says, and he can see the white of her teeth, and he feels a familiar flutter in his stomach, only this time, he thinks it's just a good feeling that comes from having his friend back.

He really has missed her.

* * *

_xvii._

Even though he and Rachel are friends again, he's still surprised when she walks up to him in the middle of his shift on a Monday in May with a determined look on her face.

"We need to talk," she says shortly, and he furrows his brow, but he follows her into the on call room. He sits down on the edge of one of the cots, watching her as she paces back and forth for a few moments.

"Rach?"

She sighs. "I was wrong, Finn."

He just waits, watching her curiously. She just looks at him from under her eyelashes, biting her lip. "Wrong about what?" he asks finally. "Like, a diagnosis, or—?"

"No, no," she says hastily, and she sits beside him, taking one of his hands in both of her own. They're so small compared to his. She takes a deep breath, then she says, "I broke up with Jesse."

He just stares at her. Granted, he doesn't like the guy, but he fails to see how this affects him.

"I just… the other day I realized that he was this – this toxic influence in my life. I mean, he was kind of a jerk to everyone I liked, even my dads! And so I got to thinking…" She takes another breath in. "I got to thinking about what I _did_ want in a guy, since Jesse was obviously everything I _didn't_ want, and the conclusion that I came to was… you."

He furrows his brow. "Um… what?" He doesn't think he quite understands.

"I want _you_, Finn," she says quietly. "I want… I want to give us a real chance."

He just gapes for a moment. "Rachel," he says, his voice reproachful. "I just… it took me forever to get over you, did you know that? It took me _months_." He sighs, shaking his head. "I just… I don't know if I can do it again, you know? Because it _hurt_, Rach, and – and then I started thinking about why… about why you said it wasn't a good idea, and I decided you were right."

"But Finn, I wasn't—"

"You were," he says gently, cupping her hands in his own. "I like being your friend too much to risk losing you for good. And you really are like my best friend, Rachel, even though I stopped talking to you for a while."

She just blinks at him, and he swallows as a tear slides down her cheek. "I just… I don't understand. Don't you want to be with me?" Her voice is a broken whisper, and for a moment, he just wants to say _yes, of course I do_, but he knows he can't, even though part of him desperately wants her, will seemingly _always_ want her.

"No," he whispers back instead.

A few more tears slide down her cheeks, and she pulls her hands from his, her shoulders crumpling as she walks toward the door. As she pushes it open, he hears a sob escape her, but then she's gone, and he feels _horrible_.

He lies down on the cot, tucking his legs in so he'll fit, and he stares up at the ceiling. He did the right thing, didn't he? He values her friendship too much, and the previous months he spent not talking to her were _hell_. He doesn't really want to lose their friendship again, even though sometimes he remembers everything they could be, given a proper chance.

He's just not sure this _is_ their chance. She just broke up with Jesse and he's kind of the backup plan, isn't he?

He turns over, his stomach churning and he wonders how, if he really did the right thing, he can possibly feel so hollow?

* * *

_xviii._

He's not entirely sure, but he thinks that since he and Rachel talked in the on call room, she's been avoiding him. He's tried texting her a few times to see if she wants to hang out to no avail. She's taken to sitting with some of the other interns at lunch, and he really wonders whether or not he did the right thing after all.

Quinn frowns, her eyes on him as he's watching her one day, and she asks, "What happened between you two anyway? You seemed fine for a while there, and now…"

Finn just sighs. "You'd be better off asking her."

* * *

_xix._

Later that afternoon, Puck runs into him as he's coming out of surgery, a grim look on his face.

"Hud, looks like you really muffed things up," he notes, throwing an arm around Finn's shoulders. Taking in Finn's confused expression, he elaborates. "Quinn talked to Rachel, and she's apparently distraught over something _you_ did. And I have to admit, I'm a little confused seeing as _you_ were the one pining over her and moping around for months, and suddenly she wants to be more and you say _no_?"

"Look, it's not that simple," Finn begins, but Puck cuts him off.

"Enlighten me."

Finn takes a deep breath in. "Well, okay, first of all, she had _just_ broken up with Jesse, and I didn't want to be some rebound, and secondly," he sighs, "I started thinking that, you know, maybe she was right."

Puck just looks at him blankly for a few moments before slapping him on the back of the head.

"Ow!" Finn hisses, his eyes scrunching up in pain. "What was that for?"

"For being an idiot," Puck tells him.

"I just don't want to lose my best friend!" Finn says defensively. Noticing Puck's narrowed eyes, he hastily adds, "Besides you, I mean, my best friend besides you."

"Good save," Puck deadpans. "But isn't she already kind of ignoring you?"

Finn rolls his eyes. "She'll come around eventually."

"You better hope so," Puck says as he starts to walk away, "or you really did make the biggest mistake of your life."

Finn runs a hand through his hair, sighing exasperatedly as he really, _really_ hopes that Puck is wrong. He decides he better talk to Rachel just to be sure.

* * *

_xx._

She glares at him when he places his tray across from hers, her arms folded across her chest. "What do _you_ want?" she asks, her voice curt.

"Rach, I'm not trying to hurt you," he insists. "I'm just doing what's best for both of us—"

"When I told you we should just be friends, did you agree that it was best for both of us?" she demands.

"Well, no, not at first," he allows, "but it just took time. Then I realized that… you were right."

"Well, maybe I wasn't right," she snaps. "Did you ever think of that?"

"Look, Rachel, I miss you," he says his voice low and earnest.

Her eyes shine with unshed tears, but she still looks angry.

"I miss my best friend."

"Finn, we were hardly friends in the first place."

She leaves then, her chair scraping against the floor as she does. He sighs, glancing down at her still-complete tray she left behind.

He thought turning her down would keep their friendship intact at least. Clearly, he was wrong.

* * *

**tbc**_  
_


	3. part three

**please remember that this story is from finn's pov, therefore rachel's actions are going to be slightly misconstrued because that's the way finn is perceiving them! that's really important to remember, i think!**

**dedicated as always to mary gael!**

* * *

_my gracless heart, part three_

_xxi._

"Ice skating will be fun!" Quinn insists, smiling at him brightly, her arms firmly looped around Puck's bicep.

He just sighs, wondering how they even found an ice skating rink that was open in the first few weeks of June. He only came along because Quinn and Puck both made him feel guilty about not going out with them anymore like he used to.

"Dude," Puck had said, "we live in the same apartment and it's like I barely see you."

So now here he is, preparing to go ice skating. In June.

Once they're inside, Quinn only starts smiling wider, waving someone else over. Finn turns to see who she could possibly be trying to flag down, and his stomach drops when he sees that it's Rachel. They haven't spoken since he tried to make amends with her that day at lunch, and she doesn't seem to have forgotten her grudge, judging by the scowl on her face.

"Rachel!" Quinn exclaims, letting go of Puck to give her a hug.

Rachel gives her a small smile, then jerks her head over to Finn, her lips immediately settling into another frown. "You didn't mention that it wouldn't be just the three of us."

"Well, we couldn't very well forget about Finn!" Quinn says, her voice way more cheerful than normal. Noticing Rachel still eyeing Finn distastefully, Quinn grabs her by the arm, insisting they need to go find skates that will fit her tiny feet.

Once they're gone, Finn turns to Puck. "You set this up, didn't you?"

"Well, Quinn did," Puck corrects.

"But you knew about it."

Puck shrugs. "We just want you guys to be friends again. It's weird when you're not."

Finn can't really argue with that, so he just heads over to the skate rental, Puck not far behind. He really hopes that by the end of the day, Puck's right, and he and Rachel can be friends again.

* * *

_xxii._

So far, not so good. Puck and Quinn are happily skating around, hands linked, Quinn laughing. Finn's been kind of skating in random patterns, trying not to follow anyone on purpose, which is thankfully not that hard since the rink is nearly empty. He's actually pretty good at ice skating even though he's usually pretty terrible at things that involve extensive hand-eye coordination and balance.

Rachel, however, is fearfully clinging to the wall.

Finn skates over to her, ignoring the glares she's pointedly sending his way. "Need a little help?" he asks.

"Not from _you_," she replies.

He shrugs, holding up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay, fine." He doesn't leave though; he just stands on the other side of her, leaning against the wall.

There's a few moments of silence, then she asks, her voice bitter, "How are you so good at this anyway?"

He shrugs again. "My mom used to take me. And, I don't know, it was kind of our thing after my dad died, I guess."

He sees Rachel's gaze soften out of the corner of his eye as she bites her lip. "That's – that's sweet," she manages.

He just nods. "You know, I could help you out if you'd like."

She glares again. "I don't need your help!" she says defiantly, her chin jutting out.

"Really? Because it looks like you're holding onto the wall for dear life," he deadpans.

Rachel purses her lips, then she replies, "Well, I guess you could teach me a thing or two."

He offers her his hands, and she eyes them warily.

"Rach, just c'mon. I'm not gonna let go, I promise."

She takes in a deep breath, then lets go of one side, her hand flying into Finn's. He grips it tightly, giving her a smile.

"That's it. Now the other one."

"Promise you've got me?"

"Rach, I promise."

She takes in a few more deep breaths, then she lets go of the wall, letting out a little shriek as she wobbles before Finn can grab her and steady her. She stands in front of him, still unsteady, looking down at the ice.

"You're okay," he says gently. "It's okay, I've got you."

He starts to skate backwards, Rachel's hands still firmly in his own, but she stumbles. He moves one of his hands to her waist, steadying her, and she gives him a grateful smile. He starts to skate again, not taking his eyes off of her, and she's looking downward, watching her feet, her bottom lip under white teeth.

"Look at me, you're fine," he coaxes gently, and hesitantly, she raises her gaze to his face, her brown eyes wide. "There you go." He keeps the pace slow, lets her just get used to the feeling of gliding over the ice.

She's still a little wobbly, so he stops her, getting another idea.

"Wh – what're you doing?" she asks, her eyes wide, but he just smiles.

"Trust me," he says, and he keeps his hand on her waist, sliding around to rest on her stomach as he loops around her. "There," he says softly, giving her a gentle push, gliding right behind her. The other hand is holding one of hers. "Much better. Doesn't that feel better?"

She nods, and he can see the slightly pink coloring of her cheeks.

They skate like that for a few minutes, awkwardly moving over the ice, her back pressed into his chest. Eventually, she feels confident enough to skate a few inches away, her hand still firmly linked with his, and then, without warning he lets go.

She turns her head and gasps, opening her mouth to yell at him, but he just smirks.

"You're doing it, Rach."

She looks down, noting that she _is_ gliding on the ice of her own accord, and she beams. "I'm doing it!" She claps her hands, and maybe she wasn't _quite_ ready for that, because she promptly loses her balance and falls onto the ice with a sickening thud.

He rushes over to her, kneeling so he's at her eye level, and to his relief, she's laughing, her eyes crinkling as the sound leaves her.

"Are you alright?" he asks anyway, and he's laughing a bit along with her.

She takes his outstretched hands with no dispute this time, letting him help her back up. She looks at him, biting her lip, and then she smiles.

"I'm fine," she says, a little late. "Completely fine."

He just clears his throat, looking down at the ice they're standing on, but he doesn't let go of her hands.

"Finn," she says, her voice suddenly soft, somewhat vulnerable, "I – I'm really sorry, you know."

He looks back over at her, his brow crinkling in confusion.

"I know you were just trying to do the right thing for our friendship," she acknowledges, "even if I didn't want to admit it. I was just – just so _angry_ and I treated you _terribly_ because of it, even though you were just trying to do the right thing for both of us. And I'm just really, _really_ sorry."

He eyes her warily for a moment, but she's looking at him sincerely. "Truce?" he says, dropping one of her hands so he can hold out one of his in a handshake gesture.

She laughs, but she accepts his hand, shaking it with her one significantly smaller one. "Truce," she agrees. "And – and friends again, if that's alright with you."

He drops her hand and hugs her instead, pressing her tightly against him, tucking her head under his chin as her own thin arms wrap around him and she squeezes back. "Definitely, Rach," he breathes into her hair.

"I missed you," she admits into his shoulder, her voice muffled. "I missed my best friend."

He just nods, finally letting her go before quickly grabbing her arm again as she tries to steady herself.

"'Bout time you two made up," Puck comments dryly, skating by with Quinn, who's trying (but failing miserably) to hide a smile.

"Shut it, Puckerman," Rachel snaps, but she's smiling.

For the first time in a long time, Finn feels like this is how things are supposed to be.

* * *

_xxiii._

Puck announces that now that he and Quinn are engaged, he'll be moving out of the apartment he shares with Finn and moving in with her instead.

Finn's not really shocked, because he definitely saw it coming, although he's a little sad to see Puck go. It kind of signifies that they really are growing up (as cheesy as that sounds) and growing in separate directions, especially now that they're both officially residents and not interns any more.

He kind of needs a new roommate though, because rent isn't exactly easy to maintain on his own.

Puck says he can see if any of his surgeon buddies are interested, but Finn just sighs, shaking his head. He'd rather room with someone he knows, someone that he _likes_ and preferably is friends with. He figures that will make a better living situation.

Rachel seems a little disgruntled as she slams her tray down across from him at lunch, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes.

"Rough day?" Quinn asks sympathetically. "I heard Sylvester was on your ass for miniscule chart readings this morning."

"You have no idea," Rachel mutters darkly, moodily stabbing at her corn on her tray. "And, on top of that, I am now homeless!"

Puck shares a look with Finn before saying, "Oh, really?" He shrugs. "Sucks for you."

"Puck!" Quinn hisses, shooting him a glare.

"I was living with my cousin Myra temporarily ever since my dads decided they would stop paying for my apartment, but that was, well, temporary, and seeing as she's getting married this Saturday, she's made it _very clear_ that I'm to be gone when they get back from the honeymoon." She sighs, putting her head in her hands, moaning, "What am I going to do?"

Finn swallows, then he says, "Actually, Rach, since Puck just moved out, I need a new roommate."

She peeks up at him from beneath her dark curtain of hair. "Really?" she asks in a small voice.

He just smiles. "'Course, Rach! I mean, I need a roommate, and you need a place to stay. It's kind of perfect, actually!"

"You'd really let me move in?" Rachel asks, and her voice is kind of wobbly, like she might cry.

"I – I mean, if you want to—" he says hastily, but he doesn't get to finish because she's leaning across the table and throwing her arms around him. She _is_ crying, he notes, her tears dampening his coat a bit, but he's pretty sure they're happy tears.

"Thank you so much," she blubbers, finally letting go of him and dabbing at her eyes. "I promise I'll be the best roommate you've ever had!"

"Trust me, that's not hard to do."

"Hey!" Puck says indignantly.

Finn just rolls his eyes good naturedly at Rachel, and she gives him a small smile in return.

"When can you move in?"

She starts talking animatedly then, saying definitely as soon as possible, and she's listing off all the boxes she'll need and how she'll _promise_ not to take up that much room. She's so excited, he can tell already, her eyes bright, and he really likes seeing her happy.

He thinks that living with Rachel won't be too bad. It won't be too bad at all.

* * *

_xxiv._

Rachel moves in two days later, and she has a lot more things than she said she would, but honestly, Finn doesn't mind. Puck makes fun of him as he helps him unpack her bathroom stuff, but secretly, Finn's excited about the change, the feminine touch Rachel's sure to add to the apartment.

The last thing Rachel unpacks is her extensive collection of DVDs, mostly musicals he's never heard of, setting them right next to his own smaller set. She grins, clapping her hands excitedly before she throws her arms around him.

He can't help but hug her back, breathe her in, hold her close, and for a strange moment, he's tempted to kiss her. Thankfully, he fights the urge, because nothing would be more awkward than kissing your new platonic roommate.

Puck and Quinn leave, and then it's just Finn and Rachel, sitting on the couch, feet up on the coffee table _("just this once!"_ Rachel had insisted). Her head falls onto his shoulder, and they're looking at the dark television screen.

"Welcome home, roomie," he mutters, and she looks up at him, her smile so bright, he might just go blind.

* * *

_xxv._

Living with Rachel, Finn soon finds out, is _very_ different from living with Puck. More like the complete _opposite_ of living with Puck.

For instance, Puck never traipsed around in the apartment in nothing but a towel, water droplets still stuck to his skin, shaking out his damp hair as he sauntered into the kitchen. Finn has to nearly think of the mailman he crashed his car into when he was in high school to keep himself from getting excited, and he has to constantly remind himself that Rachel's his _best friend_, so it shouldn't matter what she does (or doesn't) wear anyway.

Puck also never sang loudly in the shower, but then again, Puck didn't have the voice of an angel like Rachel does. Her voice fills the entire apartment, and she's just so _good_ that he can't possibly be angry. He definitely knows why she considered being a musical theater major. She could have easily been on Broadway.

It's nice that Rachel understands the hectic schedule of being a doctor, and the apartment is always a refuge of sorts, a place to relax when things get hectic. She'll even have food waiting on him from time to time, not always vegan even though she is one herself.

Rachel's just awesome, and Finn knows he's actually really lucky to have her not only as a roommate, but as his best friend. And yeah, sometimes his heart starts pounding when her fingers brush his as she reaches for her coffee cup, and sometimes he licks his lips when she feels comfortable enough to watch television in just her bra, but they're friends, and he pushes these emotions aside, because that's the way it should be.

It would be too complicated otherwise.

* * *

_xxvi._

They adapt easily to living with each other, and it becomes this natural thing. They even ease into other relationships, Rachel dating one of the new interns, Sam, while Finn begins seeing the new building psychologist, Santana.

Santana's the complete opposite of Rachel, practically, snippy and moody and actually _really_ aggressive, but the sex is pretty hot, and Finn isn't really looking for anything serious anyway. Santana's made it clear that this is anything _but_ serious.

Somehow though, Finn manages to organize a double date, so he and Santana end up on one side of the booth at Breadstix, the only Italian place in town, while Sam and Rachel end up on the other.

Sam's nice enough, but Finn doesn't really think he's right for Rachel, because from what he can tell, they have virtually nothing in common. But Sam just smiles his too-wide smile (seriously, his mouth is freaking _huge_), and Rachel giggles, and Finn thinks that maybe there's just something he's missing. He glances over at Santana to see that she's checking her phone, and when she notices he's looking at her, she just rolls her dark eyes.

So he and Santana have a bit of a different relationship. That's fine. They don't have to be exactly like Sam and Rachel.

Rachel laughs again, her hand resting on Sam's arm, and Finn can't help but frown. He glances back over at Santana, who's now inspecting her nails in a bored fashion. Surely it wouldn't kill her to at least _smile_?

He tells her this when he's driving her back to her apartment after dinner, and she just glares at him, says, "What are you, in middle school?" and then ignores him for the rest of the ride. She doesn't invite him upstairs.

When he gets back to the apartment, he can hear noises coming from the direction of Rachel's room, noises he _really_ doesn't want to think about, and he sighs, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he heads to his own room, shutting and locking the door behind him.

Rachel, unlike him, seems _happy_ in her new relationship, and sure, he's happy for her, but he can't help but want what she has. And he can't help but think that the only time he came close to feeling that way was when he was with her.

* * *

_xxvii._

As the months trickle by, he starts seeing Rachel less and less, even though they live together. She ends up on opposite shifts, and when they do have the same shifts off, she's with Sam. Sure, he's still doing whatever it is he's doing with Santana, but he still misses Rachel. She's still his best friend.

He ends up tagging along with Puck and Quinn on most nights, who are planning their wedding, and he notes that nothing feels quite as terrible as being a third wheel to your engaged friends.

"What's up with Rachel these days anyway?" Quinn asks when he finds himself over at their apartment _again_. "We hardly ever see her anymore."

"That's because she's with _Sam_," he says before taking another drink from his beer bottle, and he doesn't _mean_ to sound so bitter, not really. He also doesn't miss the way Quinn's eyebrows raise suggestively, the knowing look she exchanges with Puck, so he feels the need to explain himself, adding, "I've got nothing against the guy, but like… I don't know, I come here and I see the two of you all in love and then I go home and I see Sam and Rachel and I guess… I just look at my own life and I don't have that, you know?" He shakes his head, taking another swig of beer.

"Finn," Quinn says, her voice soft, and she gently pats his shoulder, "it's okay to want that, you know. And – and aren't you seeing Santana? Maybe you'll have that sooner than you think."

He rolls his eyes, because he doesn't know how to tell Quinn that he _definitely_ won't have that with Santana, and he just murmurs, "Maybe," to appease her, because that's easier.

For now, he'll just drink, because drinking numbs things for a while, numbs the pain of seeing everyone around him happy when he's still the one person who's just _not_.

* * *

_xxviii._

Rachel's practically bouncing on the balls of her feet when he gets home a few weeks later, and he has to do a double take just to make sure she's actually _miraculously_ home at the same time he is, and seemingly alone at that.

"Hey, Rach," he says cautiously, and before he can say anything else, she's thrusting her hand in his face. Once his eyes focus, he sees the diamond ring glittering on her finger.

"Sam proposed!" she squeaks out.

"And – and you said yes," he says slowly.

"Well, I wasn't sure at _first_," Rachel allows, "but after thinking about it for several long minutes, I decided that yes, I loved him, and yes, I wanted to marry him. I mean, he really is fantastic, and – and what more could a girl want, really?"

Finn furrows his brow, (because if she had to _think_ about it, should she _really_ be marrying him?) but he manages to plaster a smile on his face as she throws her arms around him, hugging him tightly.

"I'm – I'm really happy for you, Rach," he manages to say, and he desperately wants to mean his words.

She's still smiling, but a softer smile (_his_ smile, he thinks with a pang) when she pulls away, pressing a kiss against his cheek. "I really hope you'll be as happy as I am, Finny," she murmurs, briefly squeezing his hand, and then she's gone, breezing out of the apartment.

He just sinks onto the couch, murmuring, "Me, too," and wondering if Rachel's _really_ as happy as she claims to be. He wonders if Sam is really the right person for her, or if he's just the person she's settling for.

He thinks that if anyone deserves to not have to settle, it's Rachel. Rachel's the person who deserves everything good in the world. He doesn't, and that explains why she's the one who's seemingly happy, engaged to be _married_, and he's the one in some sort of sexual arrangement that doesn't even really resemble a relationship, so unhappy that he literally doesn't know what to do about it.

He figures he could try to actually be happy, and the first thing to go has to be his toxic _whatever it may be_ with Santana.

* * *

_xxix._

Santana barely even looks up from her phone when he breaks up with her over lunch in the cafeteria.

"So, just to be clear… we're not seeing each other anymore," he says, watching her carefully, looking for _any_ sign of emotion.

Santana just stares at him. "Yeah, I figured as much. Not like we really _see_ each other though, anyways." She smirks. "Can't say I'll miss the sex. I mean, I've had better."

He gapes at her as she gets up easily, literally without a care, and he wonders why he was even with her – well, sort of – in the first place.

But just like that, it's over. And weirdly, he feels like a weight has been lifted. He feels like he can breathe again. And he feels like maybe, just maybe, this could actually be a fresh start.

* * *

_xxx._

Puck and Quinn get married in December, and it snows. Puck's a lot more nervous than he cares to admit, but Finn reminds him that he'll be fine, that for _whatever reason_ Quinn loves him, and although Puck punches him in the shoulder, he knows that it does help calm him down.

Hey, he's not the best man for nothing.

Quinn looks beautiful, in her strapless gown, smiling brightly as she holds Puck's hands between her own tightly, but as they exchange vows, Finn can't help but watch Rachel, who's standing a couple of girls down from Quinn as one of the bridesmaids.

She's tearing up, her big brown eyes shining with unshed tears, and as Puck and Quinn both pledge their eternal love for each other, Finn's eyes meet hers, just for a moment. She gives him a small smile before looking away, back at the bride and groom, but it's enough for him to realize that he's been stupid all along.

He's in love with Rachel. He's been in love with Rachel since he met her on their first day at the hospital. And he could've had her, but he blew it by insisting that they stay friends, and now she's going to marry someone else.

And he knows that, even though he loves her, has _always_ loved her, he's not going to stand in the way of that. Rachel deserves to be happy, even if it's not with him, because he really just wants what's best for her. Even if it's Sam.

The priest pronounces Quinn and Puck to be man and wife, telling Puck that he can kiss his bride, and Finn keeps his eye on Rachel as Puck dips Quinn dramatically.

She glances back over at him, the small smile still on her face, and his heart pounds in his chest.

He loves her. He loves Rachel Berry, loves her from the tips of his toes to the top of his head.

Then she looks out into the crowd, and she waves, and his heart sinks because she's waving at Sam, her _fiancé. _And he deserves her, because Sam's a nice guy who will treat her right, who will give her everything she deserves, and for that, Finn can't hate him.

He can only hate himself, because he _loves_ her, and he let her get away, and he cares about her too much to do anything about it now.

* * *

**tbc**


	4. part four

**i'm terribly sorry for the long wait for an update, but i just started college so things have been a little crazy! **_  
_

**dedicated as always to miss mary gael :)**

**(this is the second to last update, so also keep that in mind!)**

* * *

_my graceless heart, part four_

_xxxi._

They're both in the on-call room about a week after Quinn and Puck's wedding. Rachel's upset because she just watched someone die in front of her eyes (it's not the first time and it certainly won't be the last), and she couldn't do anything to save them. Finn was in here trying to get some well-deserved sleep (he's working a double shift, after all), but now he's wide awake, listening to Rachel on the cot next to him.

"Life's just so short, Finn," she's whispering. "It's _so_ short, and we don't even really know how long we have, you know? Like, I could die tomorrow, and I just…" She sighs, turning over to look at him. "Is this the life that I wanna be living?"

He frowns, turning so he's on his side, facing her. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, I've played it safe, Finn! I haven't taken chances, I haven't been the best that I could be. What do I have to show for my time here, really?" She lets out a sigh, moving her hand so the diamond engagement ring on her left ring finger glints in the fluorescent light.

"You're extraordinary, Rachel Berry," Finn tells her, and he takes a chance, running his fingers ever so lightly across her cheek. Then he glances back at her ring and drops his hand.

Rachel bites her lip. "I'm not sure about anything, Finn," she admits, her voice a quiet whisper. "I'm not sure I'm a good doctor, and I'm not sure about – about marrying Sam, and I'm not sure… I'm not sure that I made the right choice by letting you go."

Finn's suddenly aware how close their cots are, how he can feel her breath fanning across his face. She scoots impossibly closer, her knee brushing his thigh, and he reaches over to intertwine her fingers with his.

He can't stop looking at her, and he really wants to kiss her. Does she want to kiss him? He has a feeling she does.

She's inching closer, her hand now on his face, cupping his cheek, and he can feel the coolness of the band on her finger pressing against his skin.

"Rachel," he murmurs as her lips are about to brush his, "we can't do this. You're engaged."

She sighs, rolling onto her back. "You're right," she says. "God, you're right. What were we doing anyway?" She laughs, somewhat maniacally. "We're best friends, aren't we, Finn?"

He rolls over onto his back as well, looking up at the ceiling. "Yeah," he echoes, ignoring his heart, which is still pounding frantically in his chest. "Best friends."

* * *

_xxxii._

They both act like the moment in the on-call room never happened, and really, it's for the best. She's still planning her wedding to Sam, and he's still busy trying to pretend that he's not hopelessly in love with her.

He remembers what she said in the on-call room, about not being sure she wants to marry Sam, but he doesn't say anything to her about it. Maybe she's decided she is sure now. Or, even if she's not, he supposes he has to let her deal with that.

She moves out on a Saturday into Sam's apartment, and Finn guesses he should've expected it (she's engaged to him, after all), but he still can't help but feel that familiar pang in his chest as he looks at all of her stuff in boxes.

"Well," she says when there's only one box left, the others already safely out in the moving truck, "I guess this is it, roomie."

"I guess so," he says. He holds out a hand for her to shake.

She looks at his hand, then back at him, throwing her arms around him instead. "I'm going to miss you, Finn," she whispers in his ear as his arms come around to squeeze her tightly.

"Hey, we'll still see each other," he promises. He doesn't want to let her go. "We still work together and we're still…" He swallows. "We're still friends, so it's not like we're never going to see each other."

He knows things are changing though, and as she pulls back to look up at him, he knows that she knows they are, too.

"I really mean it when I say you're my best friend, Finn," she says. "You're the best friend I've ever had."

There's a car horn then, and Finn figures Sam must be getting impatient outside. He presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, then steps backward.

"Sam's waiting for you," he says quietly.

Rachel just nods, and she looks like she might cry. "I'll – I'll see you, okay?" She bites her lip, and before she turns to leave, he sees a single tear streak down her cheek.

He wonders if she'll really be happy with Sam, if she's making the right decision. He guesses that she'll have to figure it out for herself.

* * *

_xxxiii._

Puck and Quinn invite him to go out about a week after Rachel moves out and a week before she's due to get married, and he's surprised to see her already waiting at a table when the three of them arrive, and without Sam, no less.

She gives them all a smile, taking a sip from what he's assuming is a strawberry daiquiri (her favorite). "Thanks for inviting me, guys," she says as they all sit.

"Where's Sam?" Quinn asks. "I told you to bring him along!"

Rachel's smile falls slightly. "Oh, he's – he's busy."

Finn knows she's lying, but he doesn't push it. Quinn launches into a story about an adamant patient she had to assist today, but Finn's not really listening. He's watching Rachel. Something's off, and she definitely doesn't look happy, not sincerely.

Quinn and Puck get up to go play pool after a few rounds, leaving Finn and Rachel alone at the table.

"How have you been?" Rachel asks. "It seems like I haven't seen you in forever. It's weird not living together anymore, you know?"

He nods. "Yeah, I mean, I've been fine. Working…" He looks at her, really looks at her, and she shifts a little bit under his gaze. "What about you?" he asks. "How have you been, Rachel?"

She stares at her drink. "Oh, fine," she says.

"Rachel, please tell me what's going on," he pleads. "You know I can always tell when you're lying. I know you better than that."

She sighs, peeking up at him from under her eyelashes. "Finn, I don't – I don't think I wanna marry Sam." Her voice is barely louder than a whisper.

His heart pounds in his chest. His mouth is dry, but he manages to say, "Then don't."

"Finn, I've done so much _planning_, and how is any of this fair to – to _Sam_?" She looks so worried, her eyes wide and round.

"It's not fair to Sam," he allows, "but it's fair to you. You deserve to be happy, Rachel. And if marrying Sam isn't going to make you happy, then don't marry him."

Rachel sighs, putting her head in her hands. "I just – I don't _know_, Finn. I mean, part of me _really_ wants to be married just not…" She trails off, looking back up at him.

"Just not to him," he finishes.

Rachel's silent for a few moments, then she asks, "Does that make me a terrible person?"

Finn shakes his head. "No, Rach, it doesn't. You're allowed to feel the way you feel. You just – you can't keep lying to him about it. He deserves at least the truth."

Rachel nods, looking pensive. "You're right, Finn." She laughs slightly. "How are you always right?"

He shrugs, giving her a smile. "I just am, I guess."

She giggles, and it's _so_ good to hear her laugh. He can't help that his heart swells because she doesn't want Sam after all, and maybe, just maybe, she wants him instead.

"C'mon," he says, standing up and offering her a hand. "Let's go cream Puck and Quinn at pool."

Rachel smiles, a real, true smile, and then she intertwines her fingers with his.

* * *

_xxxiv._

"She did it," Puck tells him four days later at work, three days before Rachel's supposed to get married.

Finn raises his eyebrows, looking imploringly at his best friend. "If this is about that sex thing you were wanting to get Quinn to try, I promise I don't really want to know…"

"_No_, dude," Puck says with an eyeroll. "Although I'm still working on that, don't worry. But no, I was talking about Rachel."

Finn's heart rate increases of its own accord. "What did Rachel do?"

Puck looks around, then leans closer, his voice low as he says, "She called off her wedding."

"When?"

"Last night, I guess." Puck shrugs, leaning back against the counter. "I just know that she came into the on-call room when Quinn and I were about to – you know, put it to good use – crying and blubbering, so of course, Quinn gave me the shaft in favor of listening to Rachel's problems." Puck sighs. "I couldn't leave right away because, you know, I was _excited_," he gestures to his crotch, and Finn resists the urge to roll his eyes, "so I stuck around, and I heard everything."

Finn's reeling, honestly. Rachel _actually _called off her wedding. He didn't know if this day would actually come.

"I didn't even realize she was unhappy, you know?" Puck's saying. He pauses, then he adds, "But you knew, didn't you?"

His words aren't an accusation, but they almost sound like one. Finn sighs. "She told me as much," he admits quietly, fiddling with the chart on his clipboard.

"Then why didn't you stop her from letting things get this far?" Puck's tone is definitely accusatory now.

"She needed to realize it herself!" Finn snaps.

Puck just stares at him incredulously. "But you love her, don't you? Why would you almost let her marry some other guy?"

"Because…" Finn swallows, because he really doesn't want his voice to break. "Because I love her. And above all things, I want her to be happy. Even if it's not with me."

Puck's gaze softens, and he awkwardly pats Finn on the shoulder. "Well, she's not with someone else now, so maybe…"

Finn laughs humorlessly. "Maybe what?"

Puck just shrugs.

Finn gives him a small smile before turning back to his chart. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, because just because Rachel doesn't love Sam, that doesn't mean that she loves him instead.

* * *

_xxxv._

His phone rings later that night, the sound astronomically loud in the previously quiet night. Finn blearily blinks at the alarm clock beside his bed, rubbing his eyes to see that yes, in fact, it is three o'clock in the morning.

Then he sees Rachel's name blinking on the caller ID, and he's suddenly wide awake.

"Hello?" he answers, his voice still thick with sleep.

"_Finn_," she breathes. "Oh, Finn."

He sits up, suddenly even more awake. "Rach, is everything okay?" She definitely sounds like she's been crying.

"Yes. I mean, well, no not really, but – but it will be."

"Rachel, I don't really understand…"

There's silence on her end of the line, and for a moment, he think she's hung up. He can hear her breathing then, ragged and soft, so he knows she's still there. "Rachel?" he prompts.

"I – I t-told Sam I didn't want to marry him," she whimpers.

His heart rate speeds up even though it shouldn't. "Oh, Rach. I'm guessing he didn't take it well?"

"Not well, no," she wails, and she's definitely crying again. "He h-hates me, Finn! He never wants to see me again!"

"Rachel…" He sighs, running his hand across his face. "Where are you right now?"

"At Puck and Quinn's," she admits in a small voice. "I – I didn't know where else to go."

He sighs again, pressing the phone closer to his ear. "He just – he's gonna need to hate you for a little while, Rach."

"Like you did?" Rachel asks quietly. "After I broke your heart?"

He pauses, reliving a shadow of the pain he thought he was long over. "Yeah," he finally admits quietly. "Just like I did." He swallows, then he adds, "But he won't hate you forever, Rach."

"You think so?" she asks, her voice still small.

"C'mon, no one could hate you, not for real."

She lets out a small laugh, but he notices it's still a little hollow sounding. "Finn?" she says quietly, after a few minutes of silence, nothing but the sounds of their breathing.

He licks his lips. "Yeah, Rach?"

Her voice is small, broken, vulnerable as she says, "Do you – do you ever think that – that anyone could really love me?"

He wants to say that he loves her, loves her _so much_ that he could burst, but he swallows the words, saying instead, "Yeah, Rach, I think they could."

"And – and do you think I'll ever stop hurting the people I love?"

His heart pounds even harder against his ribcage – does she mean him, or Sam? – but he manages to keep his voice under control. "I think that you don't really mean to hurt them, so hopefully… hopefully they'll be able to see that."

He swears he can see feel her smiling in relief, and he can definitely picture it in his head. "Thanks, Finn," she says. "You really are my best friend."

His heart sinks just a bit, because there's always _that phrase_.

"You're my best friend, too, Rach," he finds himself saying. He swallows, then repeats, "You're my best friend, too."

He falls asleep that night listening to the steady sound of her breathing, because she asks him to stay on the line so she won't feel so alone. He wants to tell her that if he has any say, she won't ever be alone again, but he doesn't, because he's not that guy for her. She won't let him be that guy.

* * *

_xxxvi._

They go back to being comfortable with each other, back to having inside jokes and secret smiles.

They go back to being best friends, and it may not be everything Finn's ever wanted, but it's enough. He'd rather be her friend than not have her at all.

She manages to find a small apartment not too far for the hospital, so Finn offers to go over to Sam's with her to get all her stuff.

Sam's unusually cold toward Rachel in contrast with his usually friendly personality, and Finn guesses he has the right to be (she did break his heart after all), but Rachel doesn't cope with it well. She packs faster than he's ever seen her pack in her entire life, ("although," she says, "I guess it ended up being a good thing I never really unpacked all my things when I got here") and they're out within an hour.

Finn gives Sam a small smile on their way out, and Sam gives him one in return, so Finn thinks Sam'll be okay. He hopes he'll realize that he and Rachel just weren't right for each other, and that he'll find someone else who can make him happy.

Sam's a nice guy, and he deserves that at least.

* * *

_xxxvii._

He offers to make dinner for her a couple of weeks later, and he assures her it's a dinner between friends.

She just crinkles her nose, laughs, and says, "Of course, Finn, what else would it be?"

That kind of stings, but whatever. He makes her dinner anyway: her favorite pasta dish along with a bottle of her favorite strawberry wine that they only sell at the liquor store on Morgan Street. Her face sort of lights up when she sees it all spread out; her eyes get all wide and bright and her smile's practically blinding.

"Finn, you shouldn't have," she insists, but he's already pouring her a glass of wine.

"You deserve good things, Rachel," he tells her, handing her the glass, and she just blushes, taking a swig.

Four glasses of wine later, they're sitting on his couch, her legs in his lap. She's watching the television (some old episode of Three's Company, he thinks), but he's watching her. It's moments like these that he's just overcome with complete and total _love_ for her, and it's also moments like these when he wonders if he'll ever actually do anything about it.

Rachel laughs then at something on the show, her cherry mouth open wide, the cadence of her laughter filling the room. She turns to look at him, her eyes crinkled around the edges. He rubs one of her feet, his fingers sliding over the arch of her foot, and she stops laughing, shivering slightly instead. She seems to notice the way he's looking at her, and she reaches for the remote, turning down the volume on the television. She looks at him expectantly.

"Is there something on your mind, Finn?"

"Do you remember that day in the on-call room?" He doesn't know why he asked that particular question, but he decides to just go with it. "When you said that you weren't sure you wanted to marry Sam and we almost kissed?"

She visibly swallows, sliding her legs off of his lap, curling them under her instead. "Yes," she admits quietly, looking at the fabric of the couch rather than at him. "But – but you were right, it was a lapse in judgment."

He bites his lip, knowing that if he says what he wants to say, he could ruin everything.

"Look, Finn," she says, looking up at him from underneath her lashes, her brown eyes big and sad, "you really are my best friend, and I wouldn't want to do _anything_ that screwed that up, ever, okay?"

He nods slowly. "I get it, Rachel, I do. It's just… what if we're _meant _to be more?"

She gives him a slow, sad smile. "You still want more with me, even after how awful I was to you?"

"Rachel," he breathes, scooting closer to her, taking one of her hands in his own, "I'll always want more with you." He surveys her for a second, but she doesn't look scared, just resigned, so he takes a chance and cups her chin and presses his lips against hers. She kisses him back, slowly but surely, but he pulls away after a second, unsure of how to (or if he should) proceed.

She curls into his side, leaning her head on his shoulder, seemingly unaffected by the fact that he just kissed her. "You really are my best friend, Finn," she murmurs.

She doesn't say anything else, just turns the tv back up, and he's more confused than ever.

* * *

_xxxviii._

They don't talk about the kiss they shared on his couch, and he thinks it's becoming a pattern of theirs: Not talking about things that could be attributed to how they actually feel. He thinks Rachel's scared of letting herself feel the way about him the way he feels about her, but he also thinks she just might need some time to possibly adjust to the idea.

He knows things didn't exactly end amicably between them the first time, so he gets her hesitation. He just decides to let things keep going however they're going – which appears to be a continually blurring line between friendship and something more.

She's definitely more flirty around him, touching his arm when she talks to him, even hooking her own arms around his as they walk through the corridors of the hospital sometimes. She holds his hand occasionally and has even kissed him the on the cheek a fair few times.

Puck keeps asking him what's going on between the two of them but his only answer is that he truly doesn't know.

"We're friends," he says, and Puck just gives him this look, but he doesn't know what else he's supposed to say. "It's the truth."

"Yeah, well, you don't see me kissing any of my friends on the cheek," Puck mutters, walking away to prepare for his next surgery.

Finn sighs, because he completely agrees with Puck, but at this point, he'll take this weird thing he and Rachel have going on over whatever they were before. It may be kind of selfish, but he'd rather have a part of her than none of her at all.

* * *

_xxxix._

He's sitting in the coffee shop down the street after work when she slides into the seat across from him, cup of coffee already in hand.

"Hey, Rach," he says easily.

"The funniest thing just happened," Rachel says, her eyes wide and imploring.

"What's that?"

"Dr. Sylvester just implied that we're dating!" She laughs a bit. "Can you believe that?"

He gives her a small smile, taking a sip from his own Styrofoam cup.

"Finn?"

He sighs, setting down the cup and looking at her. "I mean, do you really blame people for thinking that we're dating?"

She doesn't reply, so he continues on.

"I mean, we kissed, on my couch, which meant something to me even if it didn't mean anything to you. And we hold hands, and you flirt with me, and for Christ's sake, Rachel, you've even been pecking me on the cheek when you see me in the morning!"

She looks stunned, her mouth slightly open. "Finn…"

"Look, Rachel, if you don't want us to have a relationship, you need to just _tell_ me, because I can't go through this again with you and come out okay. I just can't. You broke my heart the first time around, and I don't want to go through that again. You're my _best friend_, Rachel," he says before she can cut him off, "but you're _so_ much more than that."

"It's not that I don't want to be with you, Finn," Rachel admits quietly, and his heart starts pounding in his chest once more, "because I do."

"You – you do?"

She laughs lightly. "Of _course_ I do."

He furrows his brow. "Then… what's the problem?"

"I'm scared, Finn," she says quietly. "I'm – I'm scared of what people will think, or say. I mean, a few weeks ago I was about to marry some other guy, and what would everyone say if suddenly I'm with you instead?"

Finn sighs, rubbing at his temple. How is everything with them always so complicated? He doesn't even know how to get through to her anymore; he feels like he's just saying the same things over and over. What if it's just not enough?

"Excuse me."

They both look up to see Dr. Schuester, head of medicine, standing at their table.

"Oh, Dr. Schuester, I didn't realize—"

"I couldn't help overhearing your conversation, and I just wanted to say that maybe you should just stop worrying about what everyone else thinks and just worry about what each of _you_ think."

They both kind of stare at him for a moment, and he sighs, turning to Rachel first. "Dr. Berry, do you want to be with Dr. Hudson?"

"Yes, but—"

"And Dr. Hudson, do you want to be with Dr. Berry?"

He doesn't look at Dr. Schuester but looks at Rachel instead, his gaze meeting hers. "Yes."

Dr. Schuester smiles. "Well, there you go then. I personally am of the belief that you should do whatever makes you happy, and if that's being together, then so be it. I hope that helped clear some things up for you." He raps on the table with his knuckles. "Have a good night, you two."

Finn and Rachel just look at each other until the door clangs, indicating he's left. It was kind of weird, knowing that Dr. Schue apparently knows about their personal lives, but maybe they needed a third party intervention to help them see where they really stood with each other.

Rachel smiles, the grin slowly spreading across her face.

"So?" Finn asks.

"So," Rachel says. "Wanna get out of here?"

He just smiles back at her, standing up and following her out of the shop. Once they're outside, she holds out her hand, and he gladly takes it, locking his fingers with hers.

* * *

_xl._

They're sitting in the living room of her new apartment several hours later, his fingerss combing through her hair and her head on his shoulder when he says, "Just to be completely, one hundred percent sure about what we have here, you _do_ want to be with me, right?"

Rachel smiles, leaning up to kiss him. "I really do," she whispers, "above anything else. I love you, you know."

Finn grins, and she squeals as he shifts so that she's pressed into the couch while he's hovering over her, pressing kisses to her nose, her cheeks, her chin, and finally, her mouth. "You love me?" he asks in between kisses. "You do?"

She laughs, kissing him soundly before breathing, "God, I do," and he feels like everything is fine, perfect, better than anything has ever been.

They kiss for a few more minutes before she pushes him off of her gently, studying him, her gaze soft. "And what about you?" she whispers, her fingers tracing the freckles across the bridge of his nose. "Do you love me?"

"Rachel," he breathes, kissing her fingertips, "I've never loved anyone more than I love you."

She smiles, kissing him again, her tongue sliding deftly into his mouth as her fingers curl into his hair.

This time, he knows things will be different, because she loves him and he loves her, and he's certainly never going to let her go without a fight.

He's in love with Rachel Berry, and for once, he feels like maybe, just maybe, everything will turn out to be just perfect.

* * *

**tbc**


	5. part five

__**i'm incredibly sorry it took me so long to post the final chapter of this story (due to a combination of little inspiration and lots of schoolwork, i'm afraid!) but i really hope the final chapter was worth the wait!**

**dedicated to my home gurl mary gael as always :)**

* * *

_xli._

Rachel says she wants to take things slow, which means they're waiting to have sex, and honestly, Finn thinks that's just a _little _ridiculous because it's not like it's anything he hasn't seen before, but she's pretty gung ho about the idea, so he just goes along with it.

"It'll be just that much more perfect when it does happen," Rachel tells him serenely, kissing him on the cheek before she prances off to complete her rounds.

He _really _hopes she's right.

The only problem is that he really doesn't know _when_ she's gonna decide that the time is right, so he can't even plan anything or try to make it special for her. He literally just has to wait until she gives the okay. (Not that he's not perfectly fine with simply spending time with her, of course, but… he's still a guy, and a guy with a smokin' hot girlfriend at that, so he really can't be blamed.)

They've been officially together for about two weeks when her tune seems to abruptly change. They're watching what he's pretty sure is _Moulin Rouge_ (he's been dozing a bit, okay?) when she suddenly lifts her head from her spot on his shoulder.

He glances down at her, and she's looking up at him, a strange look on her face. Then she reaches up, her arms looping around his neck, craning her head so she can kiss him.

He kisses her back, but her mouth quickly presses against his more insistently, her tongue easily sliding between his lips. He can't help but let out a small moan, and he can see her smile before she starts peppering kisses across his jaw line, placing her hands on his shoulders as she straddles his lap, her former insistence that they watch the movie apparently forgotten.

"Rach," Finn manages to get out, his eyes starting to roll back in his head. "Rach, hold on a second."

"What is it?" Rachel asks as she pulls back, her hands still on his shoulders and her hair tossed over one shoulder, her brow furrowed in confusion. She looks pretty adorable, he thinks. "Don't you want this, Finn?"

He swallows, mumbles, _"God_," and the way she's looking at him, she totally knows he's putty in her hands.

"Of course I want this," he says, raising a hand to cup her cheek, "I just know you wanted to wait, and, like, I don't want you to think I'm pressuring you or anything, because sex or no sex, I still love you and stuff—"

"Finn," Rachel says sharply, effectively cutting him off, "_I'm_ the one straddling _you_."

He grins, albeit a little sheepishly, at that. "But you're sure?"

"Yes," she murmurs, and she presses a feather light kiss against his cheek. "Now, please, Finn," she whispers in his ear, "_please_ make love to me."

He doesn't need to be told twice. She squeals when he effectively pins her against the cushions of the couch, hovering over her, pressing insistent kisses against her throat. He hooks his fingers into the waistband of her yoga pants, and she lifts her lower half up so he can slide them down her legs.

"You were planning this," he notes, running a finger down one of her freshly shaved legs, raising an eyebrow.

Rachel just giggles, pulling his face down for another kiss. Her fingers quickly find their way under his t-shirt, running up and down the curve of his back until he pulls away to pull the entire piece of fabric off altogether before insistently reattaching his mouth to hers. He feels her smile, and his own hand slides underneath her tanktop to rest on the smooth skin of her stomach.

Her shirt comes off next, followed by his pants, and now she's in just her matching bra and panty set (oh yeah, she was definitely planning this little ambush) and he's in his boxers, his fingers already reaching for the front clasp of her bra.

She gasps out his name, her fingers digging into his shoulder blade as he presses kiss to the hollow beneath her ear and then down her neck, one palm finding her now bare breast. She groans, her hands raking through his hair, and he smiles against her skin, continuing to leave a trail of kisses until he reaches one breast, easily taking the pert nipple into his mouth. She lets out another gasp, tugging on his hair gently, and he swirls his tongue around the bud, appreciating the various sounds emanating from her.

"Oh, Finn," she sighs, and he grins as he switches sides, paying equal attention to her other breast.

Rachel, however, seems to be growing impatient, tugging sharply on his hair until he raises his head, mashing her mouth against his instead. Her right hand snakes its way into his boxers, gripping his already half-hard form. He moans against her mouth, but she just kisses him harder, her hand beginning to move up and down his shaft, her thumb gliding over his tip. He's growing harder with each stroke of her tiny hand.

"Oh, God," he breathes, gripping her wrist lightly.

She frowns. "Is something wrong?"

"No, 'course not," he says quickly, kissing her on the nose, "it's just, um, if you do too much of that there's gonna be some early fireworks before the main show."

Rachel laughs, pressing a kiss to his Adam's apple. She pushes his boxers down instead, sliding them down his legs until he kicks them off completely.

"Your turn," he mutters against her lips, looping his own fingers into the waistband of her panties. She giggles, raising her ass up off the couch so he can peel off her underwear, pressing kisses against her stomach.

"Mmm, later," Rachel says as he throws her underwear across the room. "First, I need you." He looks up to see her eyes dark and full of lust. She licks her lips. "_All_ of you."

He swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing, but he doesn't waste any time. "I love you," he reminds her, linking their hands together as he lines himself up with her entrance.

She smiles, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "I know," she assures him. "And I love you."

He smiles, gives her fingers a gentle squeeze, then pushes inside of her. He moans at the feeling of her, tight and hot around him, pressing his face against her shoulder as he begins to thrust in and out of her. He can hear her breath in his ear, feel her nails digging into his shoulder, and he clenches his teeth, trying to hold on until she comes.

It doesn't take long for that to happen, because soon she's moaning and gasping and literally writhing beneath him, and her walls are clenching around his length, and then he's coming as well, gently nipping at the smooth skin of her neck as he does.

Her breathing's still ragged as he rolls off of her as best he can (the couch isn't really made for two people to lay down across it, but it's a little late now), shifting so he's underneath her and she's laying on top of him.

"Hi," she says, her voice barely louder than a whisper. Her head's on his chest and she's looking up at him from beneath her lashes. She reaches up to caress his cheek with her fingertips.

"Hi," he replies, gently running his hand up and down her back. "That was…"

"Worth the wait," Rachel supplies, leaning up to press a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Definitely," he agrees, gently squeezing her side.

She just grins, cuddling into him, and he lets out a sigh of contentment. This is where he always wanted his life to go, and it's just kind of surreal that he's actually here, with the girl of his dreams.

He wouldn't trade this feeling for the world.

* * *

_xlii._

They celebrate their three month anniversary in June. He knows it's not really a _huge_ deal, but he knows that Rachel likes when he remembers, so he orders flowers to be delivered to her at work, and her face when she sees them definitely tells him it's all worth it. They're orchids – her _favorite_ – and she rewards him by placing a loud, wet kiss on his cheek.

"They're beautiful, Finn, thank you," she beams.

He just smiles, kissing her on the mouth instead.

Surprisingly, Rachel isn't the only one to receive flowers that day. Quinn also gets a bouquet, her face practically splitting in two as she reads the little card attached, turning to Puck with tears in her eyes before wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him.

"I know for a fact it's not your anniversary because you guys got married in like, January," Finn notes, "so what's with the flowers?"

"Well, if you _have _to know," Puck begins, but Rachel cuts him off with "We do." He glares before continuing. "Recently, Quinn and I found out some pretty big news."

He shares a look with his wife, and then Quinn squeals, "We're having a baby!"

"Oh my God!" Rachel shrieks, hugging Quinn tightly, "congratulations!"

Puck's practically beaming, so Finn claps him on the back, adding, "Yeah, congrats, man!"

"How far along are you?" Rachel asks, wide eyed and practically bouncing on the balls of her feet with excitement.

"About seven weeks," Quinn says. Finn thinks the smile on her face might become permanent. "We just went to the doctor's appointment confirming it yesterday, actually, so besides our parents, you two are the first to know."

"Oh, I'm so happy for you both!" Rachel squeals, hugging Quinn, this time managing to rope Puck in as well.

Finn just kind of watches for a moment, his heart warm and full in his chest. Rachel looks over at him, gesturing for him to join with a jerk of her head, and he laughs before completing the awkward huddle/hug.

He thinks that, here in the hospital, he's found more of a family than he has anywhere else. His eyes lock with Rachel, and she smiles, and that's when he knows that it's definitely true.

He just can't wait to someday start his own little family with her.

* * *

_xliii._

She's surprisingly subtle at first. He doesn't even notice more and more of her belongings are somehow ending up in his apartment until almost everything is there. She has three drawers of her clothes in his dresser and over half the closet space; her movies are mixed in with his; her shampoos and soaps line the wall of his shower.

He smiles a bit when he realizes, and he's briefly reminded of the time they shared as roommates. (Only now, they'd be roommates with way more benefits, and that thought makes his stomach flip over – but in a good way.)

"You think you're sneaky, don't you?" he asks that evening as she uses his pots and pans (and probably a few from her apartment as well, now that he thinks about it) to prepare dinner.

Rachel frowns, glancing over at him. "What do you mean?"

"Don't think I didn't notice you sneak moving in."

Rachel blushes, biting her lip as she determinedly refuses to meet his gaze. "Well, maybe I'm just storing some things here because I'm over here so often," she says carefully.

Finn laughs, walking over and taking the pan she's furiously stirring the contents of from her gasp. "Rach," he says lightly after he sets it down on the counter, lightly gripping her wrist. She swallows before finally meeting his gaze. "You can move in if you want to, you know."

She smiles, soft and slow. "Really?"

He nods.

"Oh, Finn!" she squeals, throwing her arms around his neck. "Of course I want to!"

He laughs, wrapping his arms around her waist as she stands on her tiptoes to press her lips against his. Before he can tug her closer, she pulls away, sucking her bottom lip into her mouth.

"Well, now that that's settled, I should finish dinner," she says with a smile. She reaches around him to grab the abandoned pot, resuming her stirring. "You can help me move in the rest of my stuff tomorrow."

"I thought most of your stuff was already here," Finn says, slightly confused.

Rachel laughs. "Hardly, Finn!"

He swallows back a groan. He knows that living with her will be worth it anyway.

* * *

_xliv._

He buys the ring after they've been dating for six months. Honestly, he's thought about marrying her since before they were together, so he's kind of surprised he didn't buy it sooner. But, anyway, he just kind of passes a jewelry store one day while he's out with Puck on his lunch break, and he finds himself heading inside.

It doesn't take long for him to find _the ring_, sitting underneath the glass, not too big but not too small.

"You don't already have one of these, Hudson?" Puck asks dubiously.

Finn just glares at him before turning to the clerk. "Can I look at that one?" he asks.

Once it's in his hand, he just _knows_, and that's how he ends up walking out of the store with a ring box in his pocket.

"So, when you gonna do it?" Puck asks, waggling his eyebrows.

"Do what?" Finn asks absently.

"Are you fuckin' kidding me?" Puck asks. "Propose, you idiot!"

"I – I'm not sure," he admits, and he swallows nervously. "Do you – do you think she's gonna say yes?"

Puck snorts. "Dude, have you fucking _seen_ the way she looks at you like you've hung the moon? If she says no, I'll shave off my Mohawk."

"Wouldn't Quinn be pleased," Finn deadpans, but he smiles. He feels better, because Puck's right. It's not like Rachel's going to say _no_.

"Whatever, Quinn loves it," Puck scoffs, running his hand over the strip of hair on his head. "Something to grab onto."

"Gross," Finn mutters, but he's still smiling.

He's going to propose to Rachel, and it's going to be _perfect_.

(*)

He's had the ring for two months, and he still hasn't proposed. Puck keeps calling him a pussy, but Finn's just waiting for the right moment. The right moment just happens to never seem to come along. They either work opposite shifts, or Rachel's annoyed when she comes home, or when she is in a good mood they end up having dinner with Quinn and Puck, which normally is fine, but like, he just wants to ask her to marry him already, you know?

Finally, things seem to fall into place. He and Rachel both work the same shift and they get off relatively early, so he proposes taking her out to dinner. She smiles and agrees, gripping his arm a little tighter, and he can feel it. Tonight's the night.

Dinner's practically perfect; he takes her to her favorite vegan restaurant downtown. He even splits her favorite salad with her (even though he's usually a vegan meatballs kind of guy), and she smiles so wide, his heart flutters in his chest. He hopes she'll be smiling even wider by the end of the night.

After dinner, he says he wants to take her somewhere. She looks suspicious, but she agrees. His heart's pounding as he helps her into the car before climbing into the driver's seat himself. He really hopes his nerves aren't showing, because then she'll definitely know something's up.

It's only a short drive to the hospital.

"Finn, what's going on?" Rachel asks, furrowing her brow. "Is someone hurt? What's happening?"

"No, no," he says, squeezing her hand gently. "Nothing like that, I promise."

She still looks confused. "Then… what are we doing here?"

He smiles. "You'll see."

Once they're inside, he ignores any odd looks they get, because she's in this really awesome purple dress and he's in a suit and tie, and he just determinedly walks through the double doors that say 'STAFF ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT,' Rachel's hand still firmly encased within his own.

He doesn't stop until he reaches the on call room, poking his head inside to make sure it's empty before pulling Rachel in after him. The door shuts behind her.

"Finn," Rachel says slowly, "what's going on?"

He takes a deep breath, wiping his hands on his pants before turning to face her.

She looks a little worried, her brown eyes wide, her lower lip jutting out slightly. "Please tell me you didn't bring me here to break up with me," she says in a small, sad voice.

"Wh – no," he says quickly, gently squeezing her hand. "Rachel, you know I love you."

"I know," she agrees quietly, and she gives him a tiny smile, looping her fingers with his.

"And, that's why we're in here," he says. Noting Rachel's confused expression, he continues, "Almost all of the defining moments in our relationship took place in this hospital. This is where we first met. It's where I fell in love with you. And that moment we had in this on call room made me realize that I really can't live my life without you in it."

Finn thinks Rachel might be piecing things together, but he goes ahead and sinks down onto one knee anyway, still holding her hand within his own. She gasps, her other hand flying up to cover her mouth. Her eyes fill with tears, but he thinks (well, hopes) they're the happy kind.

"Rachel Berry," he says, "I've wanted to marry you for practically as long as I've known you. You're smart, and you're funny, and you've always understood me better than anyone else from the very beginning. You're everything I've ever wanted. You're my dream girl."

She smiles through her tears, and he knows now they're definitely happy ones.

"But most importantly," he continues, and he drops her hand so he can dig into his pocket for the ring box, pulling it out and opening it so she can read the words on the inside: _Because you're my best friend_.

"Oh, Finn," she murmurs, placing her hand over her heart. "You're my best friend, too."

"Then will you, Rachel Berry?" he asks, his heart pounding precariously in his chest. "Will you marry me?"

She nods, tears still flowing steadily down her cheeks, before managing to say, "Yes, Finn, of course I'll marry you!"

He grins, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tightly. "I love you so much," he breathes into her hair, kissing the apple of her cheek.

"I love you, Finn," she murmurs back, turning her head so she can kiss him on the mouth instead.

(They totally have sex for the first time as an engaged couple in the on call room, and Finn definitely thinks it's fitting. This is the place where they really came together, after all.

Plus, it's kind of nice having one more thing to hold over Puck's head in the long run.)

* * *

_xlv._

It's weird, being in the waiting room of the hospital instead of behind the scenes. Quinn's been in labor for fourteen hours already, and although he and Rachel have only been out here for three, it still feels like an eternity. Puck's been out a few times with updates, but it doesn't look like baby Puckerman will be showing her face any time soon.

"Should we start betting on when the baby will be here?" Rachel asks, sighing as she leans her head against Finn's shoulder.

He laughs, lightly dropping a kiss on top of her head. "Who are we gonna bet, babe? Quinn's parents? Puck's mom?"

She pouts, her brown eyes wide. "You couldn't humor me, just this once?"

He laughs, nuzzling her cheek a bit with his nose. "Nope."

"You're a jerk," she mutters.

"A jerk you agreed to marry," he reminds her.

She grins up at him. "Only two more months," she reminds him serenely.

"I can't wait," he promises, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

The doors at the end of the room burst open then, and they both look up. Quinn's parents and Puck's mom immediately stand as Puck walks over to them, a wide grin stretched across his face. Finn and Rachel get up as well.

"Well?" Puck's mom asks impatiently.

"She's here," Puck says. Rachel squeals excitedly, clapping her hands. "Beth Sarah Puckerman, eight pounds, four ounces, fifteen inches."

Puck and Quinn's moms both hug him, and Finn wraps an arm around Rachel's shoulder, drawing her to him. "Congrats, man," he says.

Puck looks at the both of them from over both the women's heads. "Quinn and I were hoping you two would be godparents, what do you say?"

Rachel glances up at Finn, her lips already curling into a smile. He nods. "We'd love to!" Rachel practically shrieks. Then, "When can we see her?"

Puck rolls his eyes as both his mom and Quinn's mom finally release him. "She's getting cleaned up right now, but soon, alright?"

"Well, alright, no need to be snippy."

"I better go back and see how they're doing," Puck says, and Finn can tell he's already changed, that he already cares so much about his little girl. He thinks it's kind of sweet, actually.

"Congratulations, Noah!" Rachel calls after him. He shoots them one last fleeting smile before he heads back through the double doors.

Rachel sighs wistfully, glancing back up at Finn. "One day, it'll be us," she says with a smile.

Finn grins right back at her. "I know, baby. I can't wait."

* * *

_xlvi._

They get married in March. It rains, but Finn doesn't really mind. It's not like they're getting married outside or anything, and as long as he gets to marry Rachel today, it's pretty much guaranteed to be the best day ever.

The ceremony isn't that long; he doesn't stumble over his vows; Rachel cries, and he even tears up a little bit as well. It's just – it's really hitting him that the rest of his life, the life he's going to live with Rachel by his side, starts today.

She grins at him when they're pronounced to be man and wife, and when he's told he can kiss the bride, he does so gladly, gently cradling her face as he presses his lips softly against hers. He can feel her smile against his mouth as her arms loop around his neck, and suddenly she's pulling him even closer, effectively deepening the kiss, poking her tongue through his parted lips.

There are some whoops and hollers (and he's pretty sure they're predominantly coming from Puck), so Finn reluctantly pulls away from his wife. (He has a _wife_ now, how crazy is that?) He smiles before linking his fingers with hers and heading back down the aisle.

They have the reception at a hall not too far away, but she asks if they can just drive around in the limo for a little while.

"Everyone knows the bride and groom are always late to the reception anyway," she tells him with a giggle, her fingertips gently running over his Adam's apple. She presses a kiss against the skin there once she moves her fingers.

"Besides," she whispers against the shell of his ear, "I want to spend some alone time with my husband first."

"Mmm," he agrees, turning his head just slightly so he can press his lips against his mouth. "Sounds good, Mrs. Hudson."

Her eyes sparkle, her smile practically blinding. "Say it again," she whispers.

"Mrs. Hudson," he repeats with a smile, pushing her hair behind her shoulder so he can press his mouth against her collar bone. She sighs, her hands fisting in his hair. "Mrs. Hudson," he murmurs, kissing a trail up her neck. "Mrs. Hudson," he breathes, finally pressing his mouth to hers.

She moans, her hands slipping under his suit jacket, pressing against his back.

He thinks he loves married life already.

They do eventually arrive at the reception (and they aren't _that _late, no matter what his stepbrother Kurt says). He dances with Rachel for the first time as husband and wife, and he's _really _glad Quinn talked him into taking dance lessons, because the surprised look on Rachel's face is definitely worth it. He dances with his mom, too, and she tears up and says she's _so _proud of him, and that he's really found the perfect girl in Rachel, and that makes _him _tear up a little bit. Rachel dances with both her dads, and she's definitely crying as well.

At least he knows they're happy tears.

It's not long before they're cutting the cake and shoving it in each others' faces (even though Kurt _expressly_ told them not to), and Puck just grins, saying, "Get it _in _there, Berry!," bouncing Beth lightly in his arms as Quinn takes a picture.

Eventually, after they thank everyone for coming and everyone does their speeches, after Rachel throws her bouquet and Finn removes her garter, they're dancing in the middle of the dance floor. Well, they're mostly just swaying back and forth, but he doesn't really mind.

She sighs, lifting her head from where it's been resting on his chest. She smiles a soft, lazy smile, her fingers playing with the hairs on the nape of his neck.

"This has been _the_ most perfect day," she whispers.

He leans down to kiss her. He can totally do that whenever he wants now. She's his _wife_.

"Finn?" she asks once they pull away.

"Hmm?"

"Do think we'll be happy?"

He thinks she might be a little buzzed from all the champagne, but he doesn't tell her that. Instead, he just says, "The happiest."

She smiles. "Good. I think so, too."

She kisses him again then, and he knows that everything in his life has led to this moment. And in this moment, he's the happiest he's ever been.

Somehow, he knows, things will just get impossibly better.

* * *

_xlvii._

They find out on a Tuesday, just a week before their first wedding anniversary. Rachel's been feeling sick all week, and when she complains about her breasts being sore (loudly, in front of the entire nursing staff, he might add), Quinn suggests she check to see if she could possibly be pregnant.

So that's why they're both currently sitting on the bathroom floor, waiting on the timer to go off before they can check the little stick on the counter. Finn's trying to focus on breathing, mostly. And it's not like they don't want a baby, because they've talked about it, and they do. He just didn't expect for it to happen this soon, that's all.

He looks down and sees Rachel's hand on the tile floor next to him, her fingers splayed out against the blue and grey. He reaches over to cover her hand with his, squeezing gently.

She looks up at him.

"We'll be okay," he tells her.

She gives him a small smile. "I know."

The timer goes off then, and they both hastily scramble up. Rachel looks at him, then at the test on the counter, then back at him. He gives her an encouraging smile, and then she takes a deep breath, gingerly picking up the thin white stick.

She stares for a moment, and Finn's heart beats erratically in his chest. His future is literally being held in Rachel's hand.

Rachel smiles.

"You're pregnant?" he asks, his voice squeaking a little with excitement.

Her grin widens. "_We're_ pregnant."

He laughs, scooping her up into his arms, kissing her nose, her cheek, her hair, any part of her he can reach. She giggles, wrapping her legs around his waist and pulling back so she can kiss him on the mouth.

"I love you so much," he whispers when she pulls away, nuzzling her cheek lightly with his nose. She unwraps her legs from around his waist and he gently sets her back on the ground. "Both of you," he adds, resting one hand on her still flat stomach.

She smiles, placing her hand on top of his. "We love you, too," she whispers in reply.

He smiles before kissing her again.

* * *

_xlviii._

If Finn thought Rachel being pregnant would make her take things a little easier, maybe relax a bit more, he was dead wrong. She insists that she can still do everything she did before, and even though she gets tired pretty easily, she refuses to acknowledge it.

Even at eight and a half months pregnant, she's still doing rounds and seeing patients, although Finn's been trying to get her to just start her maternity leave early. Every time he suggests it, however, she sends him a swift glare, says, "Being pregnant isn't some sort of disability, Finn," and continues doing what she was doing.

So he's kind of given up on that approach, even though, no matter what she says, her hormones are definitely getting the best of her. A patient told her he liked her hair the other day and she promptly burst into tears and couldn't be consoled for an entire thirty minutes. He was even called out of an important appointment with a former cancer patient to make sure she was okay.

He's talking to Quinn by the nurse's station when Rachel makes her way over near the end of her shift. She's wincing, her hand on her back, her swollen stomach stretched far out in front of her.

"You okay, babe?" Finn asks, kneading one of her shoulders gently.

She gives him a weak smile. "I'm fine," she says. "I just have a sort of pain in my lower back, that's all. Nothing serious," she assures him, noting the concerned look on his face.

Quinn and Finn exchange a look.

"Rachel," Quinn tries, "how often have you been experiencing this pain?"

"On and off all day," Rachel says. She frowns, rubbing at her back. "It's been getting worse, though. Probably because I've been on my feet." She rolls her eyes as Finn opens his mouth, cutting him off with, "Don't worry, Finn, I'll sit down as _soon _as we get home and stay there for the rest of the night, alright? The little guy's just tuckering me out, that's all." (Rachel's convinced they're having a little boy. Finn, on the other hand, thinks it's going to be a girl. Honestly, though, he's gonna be happy either way.)

"Rachel," Quinn says slowly, "I think you're in labor."

Rachel laughs. "Oh, no, I can't be!"

"Rach," Finn says, "you've been having pains all day, and they've been getting closer and closer together…"

"I have pains all the time, Finn," Rachel snaps, "because I'm pregnant with your giant of a child!"

He ignores that, gently gripping her elbow as she winces in pain again. He sees a sudden movement in her stomach, and he knows the baby's kicking. He presses his hand gently to the spot. He's rewarded with another kick. He doesn't think he'll ever get over that feeling, of being connected with his child like that.

Just then, Rachel gasps. "F – Finn, I – I think…."

Her eyes are wide, terrified, and she grips his arm tightly. He frowns, glancing down to see a puddle underneath her.

"Shit," he breathes. Then, louder, "Someone get me a wheelchair, my wife's gone into labor!"

"It's not time!" Rachel says frantically, her eyes wild as she grips Finn's arm. "Finn, he's not ready yet!"

"Rach, she's just two weeks early. It's gonna be fine, okay?" She smoothes back her hair, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "We're gonna be _fine_."

She gives him a weak smile, slowly sinking down into the wheelchair that's been brought to her.

"We're meeting our baby soon," he tells her gently.

She nods. "Our baby," she repeats. She smiles. "Our _baby_."

"That's right, babe," he says, keeping his hold on her hand as Quinn starts to wheel her toward delivery. "It's gonna be _amazing_."

He's kind of scared shitless, but he's excited too. He knows that either way, he has to be strong for Rachel. And they're about to become _parents_. It's all kind of surreal.

* * *

_xlix. _

"He's perfect," Rachel whispers, running a single finger down his cheek.

Finn smiles, wrapping an arm around her shoulder and glancing down at his newborn son. He really is perfect, and he's just the right size and looks like the perfect combination of him and her: her eyes, his nose, his mouth, her cheeks, what looks to be the beginning of unruly hair like Finn's. Somehow he's managed to squeeze onto the small bed with Rachel and not crush either one of them, and he literally can't take his eyes off of his baby boy. Eleven hours of labor and Rachel threatening to castrate him if he ever touched her again were all worth it for this moment.

"What should we name him?" he whispers, running his hand lightly over the small tuft of hair on his tiny little head.

"Christopher," Rachel says immediately. She glances up at him, sees his stunned expression, then says, "For your dad. He'd be _so _proud of you, you know."

He swallows. "I know."

Rachel smiles, leaning over to kiss him. Finn's kind of conscious of Chris possibly watching them, so he keeps it short.

"I was right, you know," Rachel says a few minutes later.

"About what?" he murmurs. He's afraid that if he talks too loud, it'll disturb his baby.

"About him being a boy."

Finn rolls his eyes. "You were," he admits.

"I was what?" Rachel asks.

Finn sighs, muttering, "You were right."

"I always am!" Rachel sings, leaning over to kiss his cheek. "And Chris will learn that _very _soon, won't you, little man?" she coos, lightly tickling his stomach. Chris just looks at her, but Finn's pretty sure his son loves her already, just like he does.

He doesn't really do much beside sit and stare and occasionally cry, but Finn's pretty sure he's the dad of the most perfect baby in the world.

When he tells Rachel this, she just says, "Well of course he is. I mean, look at who his daddy is."

"His mommy's not too bad either," Finn says, and that earns him another kiss.

It's not too long before Chris falls back asleep, but Finn's content to just watch him breathe, to watch his chest rise and fall. He created half of this little _person_, and that's kind of awesome.

He never knew he could love someone so much so quickly.

* * *

_l._

"Noah, for the last time, I told you, we are not setting up an arranged marriage between our children!" Rachel insists.

Puck just rolls his eyes.

"At least not until they're a little bit older," Finn says insist, earning himself a glare from his wife. He doesn't mind so much.

Chris and Beth are just sort of sitting on the floor. Chris just learned to sit up, so he's just sort of propped up, chewing on his fingers as he surveys the room around him. Beth's almost two now, and she's sort of inspecting Chris curiously. She doesn't quite know what to make of babies yet.

"Whatever," Puck says, "Chris is gonna grow up having the _biggest _crush on Beth, and when they come around one day far, far in the future," he adds hastily after he earns a look from Quinn, "sayin' they're gettin' married, I'm just gonna say 'I told you so.'"

Rachel just shakes her head, but she's smiling.

"Just think," she murmurs, cuddling closer into Finn's side, "if either one of us hadn't ended up at the hospital as interns, we wouldn't even be here right now."

Finn frowns. He doesn't really want to think about that. "But we were, and we are. And you know what that's called?"

"Fate?" Rachel tries.

"Meant to be," he says instead, and she smiles, pressing a kiss to his cheek, her hand resting on his thigh as he wraps an arm around her.

And he truly believes it is, that they were meant to be all along. Rachel was his best friend, but she was always _so much_ more than that, and he really believes that everything that happened somehow led to this moment.

This moment's kind of perfect if you ask him.

* * *

**thank you so so much for any and all support you've shown this story, and i'm so glad you decided to stick with it until the end if you did! thank you so much, from the very bottom of my heart :)**


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